Enforced downtime

You really shouldn't have come to work today. You'd felt a bit rough still when you woke up, having spent the last few days ill and not eating much as a result. But you'd be fine, you reckoned. It's normal to not eat much when you're ill, isn't it? You just needed to proceed with your normal routine and you'd perk up.

Mistake.

Your vision greys out and you feel weak. Your strength goes, and so does your balance, and you end up pitching right over the low railing. Your cortex knows it's fine, the safety harness will catch you, but your brain stem is terrified by both the fall and from the feeling of helplessness. The safety harness catches you, just as it was designed to ╌

In the space of half a second:
You hear a thud and glass cracking nearby - what's that?
Why are you suddenly going back up?
You feel yanked around and the world spins in a way you can't make sense of.

Why this?

Now you're lying down on a solid surface… "What the fuck's even going on?" you hear yourself saying.

"You stupid bastard!" someone shouts. "Why didn't you catch Phaeton??!" But someone did catch you? Probably? You're not dead, are you? "I've got you," the someone says. It's Polycephaly's voice. "I've got you, Phaeton."

You realise, through your simultaneously hazy and jangled state of consciousness, you're lying on Polycephaly's front, wrapped up in their stems and arms. Polycephaly is trembling.

It dawns on you: Polycephaly caught you from your fall - and they must not have realised that you had a safety harness all along. Polycephaly wraps their arms around you more tightly and encircles you with their stems further still. When did they shed their sub-screens? This is getting a bit too tight… "Ease off," you say. "Organic needs to breathe."

Polycephaly loosens their grasp a little. "We almost lost you," says Polycephaly.

You gather your ragged sensibilities and try to form a reply. "I'm… I'm okay. Got my harness. …I'm wearing my harness, so I wouldn't have died." You appreciate the rescue, though. How did Polycephaly catch you so quickly? You cuddle into them in gratitude.

"You had a harness." You think Polycephaly is laughing with relief.

"Yeah… 'course I did," you say. "Always wear it when I have to work on the walkways with low railings." You tug the tether for emphasis, demonstrating to Polycephaly that it's securely attached to the trackway on the railings. Whoever designed the TV Titan's hanger had had the foresight to consider the possibility of non-TVs working there, and had included the trackways for accommodating safety tethers. (You've wondered before why that was easier than just installing taller railings. The short ones must have been already made and ready to go, you suppose.) "So who's the stupid bastard?" you ask.

You look up, and see Engineer Forty-Four-Eighty-Three with a fearful emoticon on their screen. They'd been working on the same walkway as you, and Polycephaly must have mistaken their trust in your safety equipment for incompetence or disdain for your life. Eighty-Three is evidently feeling rattled at having been yelled at by Polycephaly - you sit up and are about to get up and offer hugs (and apologies for indirectly calling them a stupid bastard) when Eighty-Three teleports away.

"I didn't know…" Polycephaly says quietly to no-one in particular.

On a walkway below, you notice Twenty-Four-Fifty-Six, one of the electrical engineers. They're quaking and gripping their screen, and being comforted by their colleague Palindrome (nicknamed after their serial Ninety-Seven-Seventy-Nine). …Did Polycephaly accidentally crack Fifty-Six's screen in their rush to get to you? Was that the sound you heard?

Polycephaly apparently reaches the same realisation as you. "…I've made everything worse."

You want to comfort Polycephaly, but you can't tell them everything's okay, not with the state of Fifty-Six and their screen. You press yourself against Polycephaly and put your hand on theirs. "You meant well, and you caught me before I even realised what was happening. I'm so lucky to have such a quick-thinking and capable friend as you. You're amazing."

Polycephaly doesn't seem convinced.

"What happened to your sub-screens?" you ask. "How did you shed them so fast?"

"I dropped them in the void on my way to grab you," replies Polycephaly. Ah. They probably broke from the impact of being dropped. That can't be helping Polycephaly's mood.

Engineers Sixteen-Sixty-Eight and Forty-Two-Twelve, the lead and their deputy, spawn on the walkway near you. Twelve walks over and offers you a hand to get back on your feet. You accept, and Twelve looks alarmed at how unsteadily you sway.

"Think I'd rather stay sat down," you say, doing just that and parking your bum down on the walkway.

Twelve obligingly sits in front of you. "Are you injured?" they ask.

"Nothing that needs attention, I don't think," you say. "I'll be bruised and achy tomorrow from being caught suddenly, but my body will heal that by itself." (You're aware of Sixty-Eight turning to face the Titan - the two of them are apparently conversing through private transmission.)

"I'm sorry, Phaeton," says Polycephaly. You pat Polycephaly's hand to show no hard feelings.

"We'll need to write an incident report about this," says Twelve. "Phaeton, what caused you to fall off the railing?"

Your weakness from your recent illness, combined with your adrenalin rush from falling and being snatched out of the air, are fighting each other to see who can fuck you up more. "…No energy," you say. You aren't sure yourself if you mean 'I fell off because my body became weak' or 'I don't have the energy to answer right now'.

"Don't worry about the incident report for now," says Twelve gently. "We'll draft it, and you can review and confirm it later. What do you need most? Repair bay or your quarters?"

"I want to go home," you say. "I need food and rest." The repair bays are of little use to you as an organic, but it wouldn't be the first time you've used them to recover from an injury.

Polycephaly and Sixty-Eight are probably talking via private transmission, from the way both are carrying themselves. Polycephaly breaks it off and addresses you: "I'll take you home, Phaeton."

"Do you know the way to Antlia-Four?" you ask.

"Not yet, but I don't need to," Polycephaly replies. They nod to Sixty-Eight, in what you think must be a "We'll finish talking about this later" way, before picking you up for a teleport. As Polycephaly picks you up, the Titan turns its head to look at you. It raises its hand and gently closes it into a fist, conveying that the Titan would love to hold you if circumstances allowed. You nod to show you understand its meaning. (You'd love a Titan-cuddle right now but you're trembling a little from lack of energy and you need to do something about that.)

Polycephaly carries you to a spot where you can unshackle your tether from the railing, then ports you to outside the block of offices where Cygnus works. "I could port us straight into Cygnus's office, but I'm technically not supposed to do that," Polycephaly explains to you. "Plus I'd probably kick all their furniture aside from the force of entering. I've done enough damage today." Polycephaly walks over to the reception desk, still carrying you (not that you're complaining). "We need to see Fifty-Twenty-Two," says Polycephaly to the receptionist on duty. "Get their bum out here."

"We don't need the rest of them, just their bum," you say (having to put a bit more effort than usual into saying something without fumbling your words). You and Polycephaly both laugh a bit.

The receptionist skips the part about asking if you and Polycephaly have an appointment - Polycephaly is extremely high-ranking, and you're an auxiliary to the TV Faction (which lets you go pretty much anywhere), and everyone who works with either you or Cygnus knows what close friends you are.

The receptionist summons Cygnus, whom Polycephaly picks up. "Steer us to Antlia-Four," Polycephaly says, starting a teleport. Cygnus does so without argument, and you cling to Polycephaly for comfort as you are whisked along the ominous void-pathways that you can't see. The three of you spawn in the corridor outside your quarters - you're relieved that Cygnus didn't try to port inside them.

"I could have found the way eventually," says Polycephaly as they set you and Cygnus down. (Sensibly, Polycephaly had already crouched mid-teleport in anticipation of the base's size.) "But I didn't want to make you wait, Phaeton."

"Thank you, my friends," you say.

"Why are we here?" asks Cygnus. "Phaeton, are you still unwell?"

"Probably," you say.

"What do you mean, 'probably'?" asks Polycephaly. "You fell off the fucking gantry!"

Cygnus displays a shocked emoticon and springs forward to hug you tightly.

"I'm fine, buddy," you say, hugging Cygnus in return. "Well, I'm not fine-fine but you don't need to worry. I had my safety harness on. Plus, Polycephaly caught me before my tether could even get pulled to its full length. …But yeah, I shouldn't have forced myself to go to work today; I'm clearly still not thinking at full speed. I need rest and something to eat."

"Here you go," says Cygnus, reaching into their coat and pulling out a couple of protein bars for you.

You gratefully accept the snack - it's not a proper meal (and protein bars taste of clay and sawdust even before their best-before date), but it'll give you the energy boost needed to prepare some proper food. "Thank you - you just happened to have these on you?" you ask.

"Yes," says Cygnus. "I usually carry a snack on me just in case I run into you. I try to carry useful bits for all my friends."

You swallow your mouthful of vaguely peanut-flavoured dust and clumps so you can talk. "I could shag you right now. You are just the sweetest friend I've ever had. C'mere." You pull Cygnus into another hug.

"Can I stay with you a while?" asks Cygnus. "Or do you need solitude?"

"I'd love to have you here, buddy," you reply. You break away from Cygnus, then address Polycephaly: "Would you like to come in for a bit? I've a set of double-doors you might find it easier to use."

"I'd like to see this," replies Polycephaly.

You unlock the door to your main quarters, then hand Cygnus the keys so they can unlock the double-doors you'd installed in the quarters adjoining yours. (No-one was using them, so you'd claimed them and turned them into a personal workshop joined to your living quarters. You'd given them double entrance doors as well as double-doors connecting the two sets of quarters, all the better to move projects and workbenches around.) You enter your quarters and go to open the connecting workshop doors so Polycephaly can get through.

"Please feel free to push that workbench aside," you say to Polycephaly as they crawl through the double entrance doors from the corridor to your workshop, which Polycephaly pulls closed behind them with the aid of their stems. You admire how Polycephaly moves deliberately through the space, taking care not to crash into anything. They move slowly, unfurling their stems and using them to gently probe at their surroundings and gauge distances.

You go to crash on your sofa and munch your way through the rest of the protein bar you're holding. Cygnus parks themself next to you and browses their tablet. "If I move some work things around," Cygnus explains, still looking at the tablet, "I can give you about 45 minutes right now, before I have to go back to work and finish some things. I'll be able to come back later this evening and spend the rest of the day with you." You lean on Cygnus and cuddle them as Polycephaly sits down on the floor nearby, letting their stems loosen and drape.

Cygnus holds you close and cuddles you back. "How about I cook you some noodles while you rest here?"

"…Oh, that would be just lovely," you say with a mixture of affection and relief. "You're so good to me."

Cygnus ends the hug with a squeeze, then goes off to your kitchenette.

You turn to Polycephaly. "You'll need to get your sub-screens back from the void at some point. Do you have to go inside the void and look for them, or can you reach in and grab them like when the Titan opens a portal and teleports its sword arm?"

"The former, most likely," says Polycephaly. "I probably could do the reachy-grabby thing, but I'd have to know exactly where the screens were first. Easier to just haul my whole self over there so I can look. …Actually, do you mind if I go do that now and come back?"

"Oh yeah, please do," you reply. "Might as well grab them before someone teleports within the hangar and collides with them."

Polycephaly gives you a friendly salute and vanishes in a cloud of black fog. You eat the other protein bar while you await Polycephaly's return. They re-spawn a couple of minutes later, kitted out in their extra screens. "Screens were all broken from the impact of landing," says Polycephaly. "Had to drop them off in the repair bay and pick up my spares from my quarters. I picked up a couple of books I saw you looking at last time you were at mine - feel free to borrow them." Polycephaly sets them down on a nearby table as they crane their sub-screens in various directions to inspect your quarters.

"Thank you, that's very thoughtful. How's your correspondence chess game going, by the way?"

"I lost," replies Polycephaly. "The fucker mated me."

"Hurr hurr," you say.

Polycephaly realises their double-entendre. "Oh, Phaeton. You're worse than I am." Polycephaly picks up a book and pretend to whack you on the head with it.

You cackle a bit more. Once that's out of your system, you say: "Thank you for coming back. I know you're busy a lot, and I really appreciate you being here."

"I have to make sure my friend is alright," says Polycephaly, giving you a gentle head-rub. "It's mostly my fault you're in this mess."

"I fucked it too," you say. "I shouldn't have made myself come into work; I'm clearly not 100% well." You realise you're still wearing your harness, and work on removing it. (Unrecorded removal of PPE from the hangar. Better add that to the incident report too.) As you shrug it off, Cygnus returns with a bowl of air-fried veggies and protein, topped with boiled noodles… and some suspicious yellow mush.

"What's this?" you ask, poking at it.

"Egg?" says Cygnus. "I remembered you said you liked an egg with your noodles, so I added some powdered egg. Was that… the wrong thing to do?"

You laugh. "Powdered egg is for baking, or for making scrambled egg. I like a boiled or poached egg with my noods. It's fine, don't worry - it'll taste okay, it'll just have a weird texture." You mix the egg in to coat the noodles with it, and squirt in some sriracha sauce from the bottle that Cygnus brought out with them.

"Is there… that much of a difference?" Cygnus asks. "Doesn't it all turn to mush inside your mouth anyway?"

"It does," you say, "But the texture is different when it goes in my mouth. That's the important part. …I do miss having fresh eggs. I'd have to find some chickens or ducks or something."

"Which would be better?" asks Polycephaly. "Chickens or ducks, I mean."

"Their eggs taste the same and are about the same size. And they're both cute and they eat a lot of the same things, but I think chickens would be easier because you can use chicken poo as fertiliser. Duck poo, not so much. Also I'd need to build a pond to keep the ducks happy."

"How is it?" asks Cygnus as you munch noodles. "Apart from the incorrect use of egg. Please tell me if it's not good, so I can get it right next time."

"You're definitely improving," you say after swallowing a mouthful of noodle and broccoli. "Noodles have a good texture; not overcooked. Broccoli is air-fried brilliantly. Is this… iceberg lettuce?"

"I think so? Was that unwise?"

"Yeah, it doesn't do the dish any favours. I think you were thinking of bok choy and you got them mixed up. Other than that, you pretty much nailed it. Right, I gotta eat this." Once you've polished off the bowl of noods and other foods, you move to cuddle Cygnus. Cygnus politely stops you and takes your empty bowl back to the kitchen first, then comes back and pulls you into a sofa-cuddle. "Ohh, I needed this," you whisper happily.

"What happened today?" Cygnus asks, rubbing your back. "I've never known you to fall off the walkways before."

You realise you're trembling. Cygnus notices too, and holds you closer. "I… might need to cry now," you say. Your body must have realised that's it's safe and you're free to collapse. And your defences are still depleted from your illness, making you quicker to cry than you might otherwise have been. You're aware of a soft fizzing sound from Cygnus's cranium - you can only hear it because they're holding you so close to them. That sound means they're transmitting; Cygnus and Polycephaly must be discussing something.

Polycephaly leans forward and scoops up both you and Cygnus, arranging the pair of you on their lap and wrapping their arms around you both. You gratefully rest against Polycephaly's bulk while pressing yourself into Cygnus, enjoying the double-hug from two dear friends. You hide your face in Cygnus's pea-coat and cry it out, while Cygnus strokes your back in that characteristic way they do, stroking slowly down your spine then quickly bringing their hand back up to begin the next stroke. You're grateful that Cygnus knows to let you finish crying in your own time instead of cajoling you to speak before you're ready. You suppose they probably transmitted that information to Polycephaly too.

When your breathing returns to normal and you feel able to speak, you pull your face out of Cygnus's coat. You hear Polycephaly setting one of their sub-screens down on the floor, then detaching it. Polycephaly's stem comes into your view, holding a box of tissues in its grabber. Nice one! You accept the box of tissues, reflexively giving the grabber a thumbs-up. Cygnus loosens their embrace so you can wipe your face, as Polycephaly re-attaches their screen.

"I plain ran out of energy," you explain. "My vision went all rubbish and I couldn't stay upright any more. I was on one of the gantries with the tiny barriers, so I went over the edge." (Cygnus gently strokes your head as you talk.)

"And I didn't know Phaeton had a harness," Polycephaly explains. "I ended up decking some poor fucker on my way to grab Phaeton, and then I screamed at some other bastard for not catching them."

"I'll talk to them when I go back to the hangar," you say. "Help smooth things over."

"No, no need," says Polycephaly. "I appreciate the thought, but I'm the one who fucked it; I'm the one who needs to unfuck it."

"Fair enough," you reply. "But I still owe them an apology of my own. I wasn't in a fit state to work, and I created an unsafe working environment. …How are you, though; did you come to the hangar because you need repairs?"

"I could do with a tune-up, I suppose," replies Polycephaly. "Mainly I just wanted to talk tactics with the Titan."

You ask Cygnus: "And how are you, buddy?"

"Glad to get a break from work," says Cygnus, gently scruffling your hair with their fingertips. "It's a balancing act, negotiating with the other two factions without making one of them think the TV faction is favouring the other."

"Don't you find them tedious to talk to?" asks Polycephaly. "I find too many of them waste my time with empty pleasantries."

"Absolutely," says Cygnus. "I have to remember that according to them, that is the polite way to do things." (TVs have a reputation for being blunt-spoken and brusque. You're well used to it, though - from the TVs' point of view, they're being polite and respecting your time.) "And this morning I had to negotiate with a skibidi outpost. We exchanged some prisoners."

"I'm proud of you," you say, rubbing Cygnus's hand. "That can't have been easy." (Cygnus gives your hand a grateful squeeze.) "I've just had a thought. Is that something I could help you with? Might the skibidis be more willing to talk to me, because I've technically got a skibidi head?"

"I advise against trying that," says Polycephaly. "If they knew we were harbouring an unskibbed human, that might make them all the more determined to capture and convert you."

"That's a point," you concede.

"Don't do it without clearing it with the Imperator first," says Polycephaly.

Your communicator chimes. It's Engineer Sixty-Eight; you'd better answer. You and Cygnus disengage your cuddle so you can do that. "You've got Phaeton, Chief," you say. "How are Fifty-Six and Eighty-Three?"

"Both will be alright," says Sixty-Eight. "Fifty-Six had a cracked screen and is currently in the repair bay for a CRT replacement." Both Cygnus and Polycephaly can evidently hear Sixty-Eight's words, as they both cringe - Polycephaly in shame and Cygnus in sympathy. "Eighty-Three has no injuries and is still at work. What about you, Phaeton? Were you injured by your fall?"

"Not to the extent that I need medical attention, but I'll be sore in the morning," you say. "Bit shaken up, but I've got Cygnus and Polycephaly looking after me right now."

"That is good. And what is the state of your illness?" asks Sixty-Eight.

"On its way out," you say, "I thought it was pretty much gone, but we saw how that turned out."

"Indeed," says Sixty-Eight. "I insist you take the day off tomorrow." (You do need rest, but you still feel a pang of disappointment. You'll miss seeing your beloved Titan.) "We'll miss having you here, especially with Fifty-Six possibly out tomorrow too, but we have enough reserve engineers that we'll manage. I or Twelve will message you the day afterwards to check on you."

"Thank you," you reply.

"Phaeton, listen carefully," says Sixty-Eight. "Take the time you need to heal. Don't rush back to work. Of course we want you here, but we don't need you over-exerting yourself and incapacitating yourself further. I need to trust your judgement, Phaeton. I already know you are a reliable worker and you won't shirk your duties - I need to know that you will also be honest about your suitability to work. Don't come back to work for the sake of coming back to work. This isn't the first time I've had to warn you about pushing yourself too hard. Don't make me have to do it again. Is that clear?"

"I understand," you reply. "I'll spend tomorrow resting, and I'll keep you informed on my progress."

"See that you do," says Sixty-Eight. "Remember: you're already a Titan engineer. You don't have anything to prove to me or to the Titan. You're a human, and it's perfectly fine if you can't match the output of techfolk. You don't necessarily have to. You don't denigrate us for our inability to do things that only organics can do, so we extend the same courtesy to you."

"Thank you," you say, tearing up.

Sixty-Eight must have picked up on the hitch in your voice. "Have I upset you?" they ask gently.

"No, you're alright," you say. "I've upset myself, is all." (Cygnus rubs your arm comfortingly.)

"If you feel up to it," says Sixty-Eight, speaking more quietly, "Drop into the hangar tomorrow evening to say goodnight to the Titan. It does like having you here."

"I'd love to," you reply. "I'll let you know how it goes." You and Sixty-Eight say your goodbyes.

Cygnus pulls you into a cuddle. "My dear Phaeton, I have to go back to work for a bit," Cygnus says. "I'll come back this evening. You'll be alright until then, won't you?"

"Of course," you say, giving Cygnus a squeeze.

Cygnus accepts a fist-bump goodbye from Polycephaly, then climbs out of Polycephaly's lap to teleport away.

Polycephaly strokes your back. "Can I pick you up?"

"Oh, please do."

Polycephaly gathers you up and lifts you to cuddle you to their chest. "Would you like me to stay here?"

"I'd love to have you here, but if you need to go back-"

Polycephaly interrupts: "Not what I said. Do you want me here?"

"I really do," you say.

"Then I'll stay a while," says Polycephaly.

"Thank you." You gratefully lean into Polycephaly while they pet you a little (making you sigh happily).

"I can feel you expanding and contracting as you breathe," says Polycephaly. "And I can feel the pulsing of your circulatory system. You're a soft and squishy pulsating thing."

You laugh a bit at Polycephaly's description of you. Most techfolk seem to enjoy your softness when they pick you up or hold you. (It makes you wonder sometimes why they don't add padding to their own plating if they like it so much. Maybe that's just not the same somehow. Then again, you suppose, you appreciate techfolk's sleek plating but you don't particularly wish you had it yourself.)

"I love your hugs," you say, squirming a little to better enjoy Polycephaly's touch. "You joke about how you 'have to be nice once in a while', but you are nice, you know. You've always been kind to me and patient with me. You just have a very low tolerance for bullshit and time-wasting. And I like that about you." (You think you hear a soft buzzing from Polycephaly's speakers, as if purring.)

"Oh, Phaeton, aren't you sweet," says Polycephaly, raising you further so they can gently touch the underside of their 'scoop' to the top of your head. "I like talking to you. You're one of the few non-TVs who talks to me without wasting my time with obsequious genuflection. You acknowledge my status as an elite unit, but you don't fawn over me for it." Polycephaly lowers you to their chest again.

"You're so nice and warm," you murmur appreciatively, snuggling against your big friend.

"Could I move your furniture a bit so I can lie down?" asks Polycephaly.

"Please do!"

Polycephaly protracts their stems so they can set down their sub-screens somewhere out of the way and detach them. They cradle you in one arm while using their free hand and their stems to reposition your sofa so they can use it as a pillow. Polycephaly lies on their back, taking up almost the length of your quarters, even with their legs lying partially in your workshop. (It occurs to you what a good thing it is that the floor is concrete and you're on the ground floor - Polycephaly weighs several tons and their weight would surely seriously stress a building with wooden floors.)

You lie contentedly on Polycephaly's front while they stroke you, prompting a purr to rise in your throat. "Nice and warm…" you murmur.

"Oh… one second," says Polycephaly. "Lie still a moment, I need to draw a blade." Polycephaly protracts one of their blades (on the arm that's not currently stroking you) and shakes their hand around, before retracting the blade. "It was sitting ever so slightly off in its housing," Polycephaly explains. "I need to get that tightened next time I go for maintenance." That was the first time you'd seen one of Polycephaly's blades - it was just as magnificent as you'd expected! "You know," says Polycephaly, idly petting you a little, "I really think we might be in the last days of this war. I don't think the skibidis can take much more from us. They've rejected all our proposals for their surrender so far, but that could change."

"You reckon it might happen once the big one in charge dies?" you ask. "That one makes quite a charismatic leader. Once they die, hopefully that will collapse their cult of personality."

"Some bullshit will inevitably ensue," says Polycephaly, "But it's a nice thought. …Phaeton. What are you hoping to do once the war ends? I didn't exist in this form before the war. I did used to be a regular TV-unit, but Polycephaly's only ever been a war unit. And I'm not sure what I'm going to do with myself afterwards."

"You can carry on being my friend, that's what," you say, patting Polycephaly (prompting a happy cluck of static from them). "But you're the foremost expert on teleportation. There's surely a research career waiting for you. You could be a lecturer about it."

"Can you really imagine me as a lecturer?" Polycephaly says amusedly.

"I actually can, you know," you say. "You don't put up with bullshit but you are patient, as I said earlier. Those are good qualities for a teacher."

"Maybe you and I can do that together. We can finally try your experiment of leaving a load of rubber ducks in the void and seeing where they end up." You both laugh at the memory of that conversation. "And you must have a lot to teach techfolk about human culture," continues Polycephaly.

"Well, a very narrow slice of it, yes," you say. "As for my plans for once the war ends… Well, I fully intend to carry on being the Titan's engineer for as long as it'll have me. But most of all… I'd like to just live without fear."

"Perfectly understandable." Polycephaly gently strokes you with the backs of their fingers. "You deserve to have that back."

"…I never really had it in the first place," you say. "Yes, I didn't live in fear of enemy attack like I do now. But I think the way human society was set up was fundamentally incompatible with human nature."

(Polycephaly pauses stroking, then resumes slowly to show they're still paying attention and waiting for you to elaborate. You briefly marvel at their self-awareness and control - Polycephaly could easily hurt you but you've never felt in danger from them. They always touch you gently, with awareness of the limits of your frame.)

"I had a job," you continue. "I was even good at it, I even quite liked it. And I was lucky in that regard. But I resented how my well-being was tied to that job. If I'd lost it, I would have faced a very real threat of starvation and homelessness. I didn't live in a society with basic income, you see. In such a society, if you don't have a job, and you're not entitled to the living allowance for people who can't work, and you don't have a support network of friends who can bail you out… well, you die, essentially. There's no safety net. That's why so many people were trapped in jobs they hated. I wasn't afraid of losing my job through my own actions - I was good at it, as I said. But any company can go out of business. It bothered me that it was a possibility at all that my life could collapse because of someone else's actions and not through my own poor choices. …I just want to live free from that. I want to be able to rest when I need to instead of powering through it, and know that it'll be okay."

Polycephaly rests the warm weight of their hand on you comfortingly. "…You deserve that, Phaeton."

You stroke Polycephaly's arm to show your gratitude. "I don't necessarily want to not work," you say. "Humans love to work when it's something we care about and makes a difference. You put a bunch of humans in a new environment, they'll invent work to do."

"I can believe that," says Polycephaly. "You clearly love being a Titan engineer."

"Hell yeah, I do," you say. "And that's what I was talking about when I said that I lived in a society incompatible with human nature. A human wants to do proper work, not be trapped in bullshit work just so we don't starve. …That's something that must be nice about being techfolk. You can get your food energy by just plugging into a wall. You don't have to worry about finding a specific mix of items."

"It's funny," says Polycephaly, "That's something that must be nice about being a human. If our powerplants and the energy grid failed, techfolk wouldn't be able to continue. But you can just go outside and pick up things that give you energy." You both laugh slightly at your 'grass is greener' exchange.

"I guess, either way…" you say, "We all need others. I survived on my own for a while before joining the Alliance, but I wasn't truly alone. I survived only because there's so much stuff out there for the taking - tools, weapons, tinned food - already made by other humans, ready for me to use. A lone human out in the true wilderness won't do well. We're pack animals. And I think it's the same for you techfolk. You need someone else to keep the power grid running so you can do your own tasks."

"You have it right," says Polycephaly. "I need you engineers to keep me operational. And so does the Titan."

"…I wonder what the Titans will do once the skibidis are no longer a threat," you say. "The Titan told me it physically can't go back to being a small unit; its psyche is too linked to its frame. I suppose it's the same for you too. …Would you want to go back to being a regular unit, if you had the choice?"

"…I've often thought that," says Polycephaly. "And I still don't know the answer."

"And what if you did do that and you hated it, and you missed being your big self? It might be better not to know."

"That's very true. That's why I try to just not worry about it."

"…Should I not have brought it up?" you ask.

"Don't you worry about it." Polycephaly gathers you in the crook of one arm and strokes you with the hand of the other.

"I really like you, Polycephaly," you say, closing your eyes and leaning into Polycephaly's arm.

"Aren't you sweet," says Polycephaly. "I'm getting rather fond of you myself, Phaeton."

You roll onto your front. "Would you rub my back?" you ask. "I'm getting a little stiff, and I still get flare-ups from that time I injured my arm and my shoulder."

"Of course," says Polycephaly, stroking your back with their fingertips.

"Oh, that's very nice," you say. "But could you give me a back rub instead of just stroking?"

Polycephaly strokes you more firmly.

"Also very nice," you say, "But I'd like more still. Really rub me down; just avoid pressing down directly on my spine. Try rubbing either side of it, and press down enough to manipulate my flesh. Don't pull at my skin; keep the skin and the flesh moving as one."

Polycephaly does so, pressing a thumb on one side of your spine and their first two fingers on the other side, gently pressing down and moving in little circles. They move hesitantly at first, as though Polycephaly doesn't quite believe that you'd enjoy having your flesh massaged this firmly, but they move more confidently in response to your satisfied grunts.

"Ohhh…" you sigh happily. You take a deep breath and then exhale audibly through your nostrils. "Oh, that's really good," you murmur. "Tension all melting away… so nice… Going to… rest my eyes for a bit, I think…"

Polycephaly keeps rubbing your back as your breathing slows and you become more and more torpid, your limbs becoming more and more flopped and relaxed. You're aware of Polycephaly gradually decreasing the pressure and going back to just stroking, as your breathing continues to slow. Polycephaly presses their hand down gently with each exhale, making you feel as though you're melting into a delightfully sleepy puddle. The last thing you notice is Polycephaly bringing in two of their sub-screens, one on either side of you, playing some soft static white noise like falling rain…

You awake. You can't comprehend where you are - this doesn't look how everything normally looks when you wake up. You realise it is your own quarters, just not your bedroom. You're still lying on Polycephaly. You have a blanket covering you, though. Oh. Cygnus is here, sitting on Polycephaly's chest between you and Polycephaly's main screen. It must have been Cygnus who covered you with the blanket - how nice.

Cygnus swivels their head 180 degrees to look at you. "Oh, welcome back, Phaeton. Sit tight, I brought you a little something." Cygnus's head detaches and flies off borne by its rockets - it picks up something in its 'grabber' (the 'geminus connector', to give it its proper name) and flies it over to you. "I brought you some grapes," says Cygnus's floating head. "Those are supposed to be good for unwell humans, aren't they?"

"Cygnus, you think of everything," you say, sitting up so you can accept the bunch of grapes. (Now you can see that Polycephaly is displaying a videogame, and Cygnus is holding the controller.) Cygnus flies their head back to re-attach it to their body, and you happily munch some grapes. "Hurk." Your face clenches up like a cat's botty at the sourness. "Oh man. These aren't eating grapes; these are wine grapes."

"…I didn't know there was a difference," says Cygnus. "I'm sorry to have disappointed you."

"I very much appreciate the effort you went to. Where did you find a vineyard out here?"

"I found it at the edge of Skibidi territory. Some skibidis were tending to it. I snatched a bunch of grapes when they weren't looking."

"I never took the skibidis for vintners. Maybe these are tasty eating grapes by skibidi standards?"

"Cygnus, was that wise?" asks Polycephaly. "Were you not concerned they might be toxic?"

"I'm sure it's fine," you say. "Skibidis are essentially humans, so anything toxic to me would be toxic to them. And I highly doubt they maintain a plantation of poison grapes on the off-chance that a passing techfolk takes some to give to an unskibbed human."

"…True," concedes Polycephaly.

"What were you playing?" you ask. You bum-scoot to better look at Polycephaly's screen. "Oh, you found Hollow Knight - that's one of my favourites. Good choice."

"It's a nice-looking game," says Polycephaly. "Lot of bugs in it, though." You and Cygnus both groan.

"I'm a bit stuck at this bit," says Cygnus. "I guess I have to jump on these springy mushrooms to advance, but I can't work out what the game wants me to do."

You recognise it. You're actually surprised Cygnus got that far, considering how crap they are at videogames. They must be improving. "That is a bad bit," you say. "It's not hard to do once you know how, but the game does a poor job of explaining it to you. When I first got here I worked it out by chance and it took me a while to work out what it was I'd done." You explain to Cygnus what you're supposed to do, and they have you demonstrate a few times on the controller. You pass the controller back to Cygnus and watch them continue playing. Polycephaly turns their screen speakers back up now that you're awake.

"Does it not feel off-putting to have me stare at you so intently?" you ask Polycephaly as you continue to watch Cygnus's gameplay.

"Of course not," says Polycephaly. "I'm a television; we're meant to be gazed at."

That's good to know. You lean companionably against Cygnus (who seems delighted by this). "It was very sweet of you to let me sleep on you," you say to Polycephaly. (You wonder if it's nice for Polycephaly to have a human friend napping on them, in the same way it's nice for a human to be a bed for a beloved sleeping cat.)

"You clearly needed it," says Polycephaly. "And you have plenty of books within reach, so I wasn't bored."

"Feel free to borrow any books or movies you like the look of," you say. "Just message me with what you've taken so I know what's gone where. I'm happy to lend you games too; just please check first in case it's something I'm currently playing."

"I appreciate the offer," says Polycephaly. "That reminds me, there's actually a Spamazon warehouse a couple of sectors over; a recon mission found it last week. When there's time we can go there and see if there's anything worth taking."

You, Cygnus and Polycephaly chat about various topics, and you and Polycephaly amiably back-seat Cygnus's playthrough of Hollow Knight. Eventually Polycephaly has to make tracks - Cygnus finds a suitable stopping point in the game and disconnects the game console from Polycephaly's monitor. Polycephaly gives you both a goodbye hug while their stems gather up and reclaim all their sub-screens. With your approval, Polycephaly takes a couple of your books with them to borrow, and teleports out with a huge cloud of black fog that takes a while to dissipate through the window.

"I made a big pot of chickpea and potato curry while you were asleep," says Cygnus. "So you've got some now and some for later."

"Oh Cygnus, you're a fucking gem," you say, hugging them tightly.

Cygnus pats your back. "Go sit down and I'll bring you a bowl?" they suggest.

You sit on your sofa and wait for Cygnus. You hope they haven't confused tomato paste with tomato puree this time… Luckily, they've done a bang-up job of it, and you eat the curry with genuine enjoyment. You and Cygnus get the remainder of the curry boxed up and ready to refrigerate once it's cooled, then return to the sofa for a chat and a cuddle.

"How are you feeling now?" asks Cygnus softly.

"Pretty good," you say. "…I feel like a fraud taking the day off. I could probably be at work now."

"Stop that," Cygnus says, not unkindly. They wrap their arms around you and gather you to them. "You remember what Sixty-Eight said to you, don't you? You're not to work tomorrow. You've been ill and you need to rest." Cygnus strokes the back of your head. "They will manage without you at the hangar. You're not letting anyone down. You know that, don't you?"

"…You're right."

"Think of it this way. If this had happened to someone else, would you force them to go back to work?"

"…I wouldn't. I'd tell them to rest. Thank you. I needed to hear that." You snuggle into Cygnus. "You are right." You feel your eyes start to build up tears again.

Cygnus pulls you close and lets you lean on them. "Would some ear-rubs help?" they ask.

"…You know what? That absolutely would."

"Bring it in," Cygnus says. You gratefully snuggle into Cygnus as they bring a hand to your head and start rubbing one of your earlobes between thumb and fingers gently. Cygnus varies the angle, rubbing behind your ear with an index finger… Oh, you're so weak to that. You wheeze happily, overcome with relaxation. You let Cygnus pet you until you are content.

You return the favour - you slip your hand under Cygnus's head-casing, as if rubbing under their 'chin'. You slide your hand further towards Cygnus's neck, as close as you dare get without the swivel joint becoming a pinch hazard for your fingers. Cygnus keeps their head very still as you stroke and gently rub your fingers in a figure-of-eight pattern on the underside of Cygnus's casing. The static on Cygnus's screen becomes busier and more frantic and bunches together in bands - Cygnus is enjoying your touch. Their speakers softly buzz, like a purr.

Both thoroughly petted, you and Cygnus cuddle and bask in each other's presence for a while. It feels so cosy and timeless…

"I want to get ready for bed," you say after a while. "Would you wash me?"

"What would that entail?" asks Cygnus. "You know I wouldn't do well in the shower."

"I'd sit in the empty bath and you'd rub me down with a bar of soap and hose me down with the showerhead."

"I can do that for you," Cygnus says, displaying a smiling emoticon. Luckily, you have several pairs of rubber gauntlets in your workshop, some of which fit Cygnus. Cygnus dons a pair while you strip down and sit in the bath. You sigh contentedly as Cygnus rubs you down with the soap in its exfoliating mesh bag. "It almost looks as though you have plating seams," comments Cygnus with amusement at the temporary imprints left in your skin from your clothes.

"This is so nice," you say drowsily. "I'm not so ill that I can't manage this myself, but this is doing me good." Cygnus softly purrs their speakers in sympathy with the contented clucks that rise from your throat as they clean you and rub you down, and then towel you dry.

"Could I brush your teeth for you?" asks Cygnus as you change into nightwear. An odd request, you think - then you ask yourself what makes it odd. Brushing someone's hair for them or painting their nails for them can be a loving gesture. Why not cleaning someone's teeth? You accept. "Do I do it in any particular order?" asks Cygnus.

"Yes," you explain, pointing to the various implements. "Start by using the metal pick to pull out any large lumps of detritus you can see between my teeth. Then use one of these tiny interdental brushes to clean between all my teeth - poke it in with a slight twisting motion. Then use the big brush to clean all the tooth surfaces as well as the gums. There's no particular order to doing that; just make sure you get all the surfaces including the backs, and brush from the gumline outwards. Finally, use the tongue scraper to wipe off the layer of slime on my tongue."

Cygnus removes their gloves and gets to work, using one hand to hold the implements and the other to cup your head and gently pull back your lips with their thumb so Cygnus can better see your back teeth. You enjoy how reverently they do it - Cygnus has always seemed fascinated by the machinations of your mouth. Techfolk 'eat' by simply plugging into an electrical grid, and they vocalise (if they have the equipment to do so) with the elegant simplicity of their speaker-drivers. Your mouth has to pull double-duty as a macerator of your food and as a subtle manipulator of the air to render your speech. Cygnus is intrigued by how it does both, and by the strength of your jaws and the fine control you have over them. Perhaps they also get a little thrill over the fact that you could bite down and damage the rubber components of their hands, but you choose not to.

"So clean," you say when Cygnus has finished. "Thank you."

"Thank you for letting me," says Cygnus, wiping their ungloved hands clean of toothpaste residue and re-donning their gloves. "Could I rest in your bed while I charge?"

"Absolutely," you say. "I'd love that."

You get into bed and enjoy a cuddle from your dear friend. "I'll probably have to disappear before you wake up," says Cygnus, plugging their charging cable in. "I need to go to work and take care of some things tomorrow. But I moved some more tasks around while you were asleep. I'll need to spend a couple of hours working first thing, but after that I'll be free for the rest of the day. Let me come back here and pamper you."

"You'd do that for me?" you ask. "Of course I want you to, but I know how busy you are-"

Cygnus gently interrupts you. "Enough of that, Phaeton. Let me love you." Cygnus reaches for your hand and strokes it. "I know you're trying to be considerate, but please let me do things for you without reflexively throwing back an 'only if you're sure'. I am sure."

"Cygnus, you are a gem." You cuddle into Cygnus. "Thank you. I'd love to have you here."

"Thank you, Phaeton," says Cygnus, displaying a cheerful emoticon. "Thank for for believing me that I want to spend time with you. …As a diplomat, I find that people expect me to have an ulterior motive a lot of the time, as though I'm acting only for calculated reasons to extract maximum benefit." Cygnus snuggles you, and you wriggle into it.

"Could we invite Fornax?" you ask. "Then you'd have someone to talk to when I inevitably spend half the day asleep. Plus, y'know, I do like them."

"A fine suggestion," says Cygnus. "Actually, I'm very glad you brought it up. There's an idea I've been wanting to discuss with you and Fornax." Oh, you want to know where this is going. "Sleep well, and I'll see you tomorrow."

You drift off to sleep in Cygnus's warm arms.

┄

You awake, alone. You stretch while lying down, and take stock of how you're feeling. You're a bit sore and stiff, as you expected, but not as much as you worried you might be. You feel as though you're being irresponsible and shirking your duties by not going to work - you beat those feelings down and remind yourself that you do need to rest, and forcing a body to keep working relentlessly won't do it any good. You want to be on your best form for taking care of your dear Titan; it surely wouldn't want you suffering from burnout. Plus, you can say the same of your other job of working in the Antlia-Four weapons workshop. The field agents depend on you and your colleagues to build and repair their weapons correctly. Better that you don't sabotage them and create more work for your colleagues by doing sub-standard work.

You know all this rationally, of course, but you wish you could feel it too. There's something you and Cygnus have said to each other before: 'This is something you have to solve, but I'll help you through it.' Cygnus will be coming over later. You know they'll help you through it. You feel a little better already just thinking about that.

You get yourself some breakfast, and then go back to bed with a book to read (about Eurasian beetle species) until Cygnus and Fornax appear.

"Phaeton, are you awake?" Cygnus calls out softly. You realise you'd been dozing.

"I am indeed," you say, sitting up in bed. "It's lovely to see you both."

The two TVs take a moment to de-shoe, then Cygnus joins you on the bed for a cuddle. To your surprise and delight, Fornax joins you on the other side, both TVs cuddling you. "Hello cutie," you say to Fornax. "Glad you could join us."

Fornax displays a smiling emoticon for you. "Hello Phaeton. Cygnus mentioned you could do with some extra love today."

"What can we do for you today, Phaeton?" asks Cygnus. "Today's all about you."

"I want to cuddle and fuck," you say. "Fornax, you can participate as much or as little as you like. I do want both of you to attend to me, but I don't want to overstep your boundaries. If you'd rather just watch me and Cygnus, feel free to just watch. If you're not comfortable doing that, feel free to park in the living room and read any books or watch any films you like the look of."

"I'd… like to participate," says Fornax shyly. "I've never… been intimate with a human before. I must say I'm curious. You'll go easy on me, though, won't you? I heard that you were able to fuck the Titan to exhaustion."

"Oh, it's true," you say. "But that's partly because the Titan is very easy to please once you know how." All three of you laugh slightly. "But of course I'll be gentle with you, Fornax. Now, some prep is needed."

You get out of bed, and shoo the TVs off so you can remove the bedcover and lay down a fleece blanket with a waterproof backing.

"What's this?" asks Fornax.

"It's a fuck-blanket," you say. "It's actually called something like a 'waterproof intimacy blanket' but I just call it a fuck-blanket. Human fucking tends to produce a lot of slime; laying down a fuck-blanket saves my bed from having a damp mattress."

You strip off your nightwear. Cygnus follows your example, stripping down to their bare plating. (A purr rises in your throat at the sight.) Fornax removes their outer coat and their suit jacket, but stops there. They remove their tie now that they no longer have a jacket to tuck it into. "I'm not quite brave enough to copy you, Cygnus," says Fornax. Techfolk clothing is semi-protective and designed to work in tandem with their plating, which makes most techfolk feel vulnerable and exposed without it (as well as a bit over-stimulated from having their sensors so exposed).

"Don't worry about it," you assure Fornax. "Wear as much or as little as you please. I want this to be enjoyable for you too." You lie back down on the bed, and beckon the two TVs to join you. Both gladly do so, lying on either side of you and cuddling you.

"You're so soft," comments Fornax. You gently take their hand and guide it, stroking Fornax's hand over your body, letting them feel the difference between the firmness of your sternum and the softness of your belly and its absence of any underlying bones. "You're even softer here," says Fornax. "…How nice it must be to be a warm soft human snuggling another warm soft human."

"It really is," you say. "Though snuggling with sleek-plated techfolk is its own kind of pleasure too. Fornax, how would you feel about pushing something up my arse?"

"Do you… want me to do that?"

"I do," you say. "Most humans enjoy a bit of assplay. Our insides are a bunch of tubes squishing together, so if you poke a human's arsehole it'll have an effect on either the prostate or the vaginal canal, depending on which configuration of tubes your human has. Cygnus, would you pass me my bag of toys?"

Cygnus does so, and you get out some lube suitable for buttholes as well as the plug you'd like Fornax to push up you. You direct Cygnus to also move a bucket close to the bed. "Throw any used toys in there," you say to Fornax, "I'll clean them all later." You also get Cygnus to pass a box of tissues and another of disposable gloves that are sized for techfolk hands.

"I want you to push this up me," you say to Fornax, showing them the buttplug. "Get it all lubed up first - the anus doesn't produce its own lubrication. I recommend you either take off your gloves, or wear disposable gloves, or do both. Otherwise your gloves will probably end up soaked with lube."

Fornax opts for doing both, wearing disposable gloves over their metallic hands. They squeeze out some lube onto the plug and get it nicely coated, at your encouragement.

"Stick that in me," you instruct. Cygnus helpfully points out the correct area to Fornax. "Keep pushing with a constant pressure," you say, "And keep it there while I push back… There." The plug slides home. "What you're feeling there is actually two sphincters in one," you explain. "The anus has a voluntary outer sphincter and an involuntary inner one. The inner one holds itself closed as we sleep so we don't shit ourselves in our sleep."

"Useful," says Fornax, pushing the buttplug all the way in up to its flared base.

"Nicely done," you say. "Now, I'd like some attention on my junk. Fornax, you can participate in this to whatever extent you'd like."

"Can I watch to begin with?" says Fornax. "I'd like to watch how Cygnus does it so I can get an idea of what you like."

Cygnus seems excited - they're clearly in their element. They peel off their gloves and give Fornax a little lesson on your anatomy, as though Fornax is their student… For some reason, that's very hot. "Try stroking here," Cygnus instructs Fornax, demonstrating how to stroke your inner thighs teasingly, working their way towards your junk.

"Oh, you're very warm here," says Fornax. "Very soft too." Your breathing gets heavier as Fornax gently grips a handful of the warm soft flesh there.

Cygnus strokes your bush with their thumb while using their fingers to caress the folds of your junk, varying the pressure as they move their fingers in a ripping motion. "Do you see the changes occurring?" Cygnus asks Fornax. "Notice the flesh filling out and getting juiced up and slimy. That means Phaeton is getting excited."

"Phaeton absolutely is," you say. "Now, I want to change buttplugs. Cygnus, pass me my bag again, would you?" You pull out a different buttplug; an inflatable one this time, with an attached air bladder. "I want to pull out the plug now that I'm nicely stretched out, and insert this one instead. Fornax, Would you like to do the honours?"

"Is it going to come out covered in shit?" asks Fornax nervously.

"Shit happens, doesn't it?" You laugh. "No, don't worry," you say. "Maybe there'll be a tiny bit at the tip. But shit sits quite high up in the colon. It doesn't move down into the rectum until I'm actively shitting."

"I'll give it a go," says Fornax. They grip the flared base of your plug and pull it out, aided by your sphincter muscles. It comes out with a small fart and oozings of lube.

"And that's why I put down a fuck-blanket," you say. Fornax hoys the little starter buttplug into the conveniently-placed bucket. "Let me deflate this and close the air valve first," you say, doing so. Cygnus takes the now-flat inflatable buttplug from you and holds it while Fornax applies lube to it. You pull your asscheeks apart while Fornax pokes the plug up you, feeding it in with some difficulty thanks to the slippery lube. You wipe off excess lube from your buttocks with tissue while Fornax peels off the disposable gloves, turning them inside out. You both hoy the tissues and gloves into the bucket.

"Now," you say, "I'd like one of you to inflate and deflate that for me, while the other rubs me off. You can take turns if you'd like."

"Can I have a go with the plug?" asks Fornax. You pass them the air bladder, and Fornax squeezes it a couple of times to make the buttplug fill your asshole a little more. Oh, that feels good combined with Cygnus touching you…

Cygnus begins kneading you in earnest, making your prepuce rub juicily against your glans and drawing out a string of keens in your throat… the sound nearly fades out and then you bark in surprised delight as Fornax squeezes the air bladder and inflates the plug in your ass further.

Cygnus and Fornax switch roles, Cygnus whispering to Fornax how to rub you off, and taking charge of the inflatable buttplug, judiciously making it fill you up and deflating it to enhance the stroking and rubbing from Fornax… They continue switching roles, working you up and edging you…

"You're getting close, aren't you?" says Cygnus. Ohh… they know how much it excites you to be told that… "Are you ready to cum for us?" Oh…

You wheeze.

"I think that's a yes…" Cygnus whispers, moving their head close into yours. You hear a soft fizzing from Cygnus's cranium - they must be transmitting instructions to Fornax. Both Cygnus and Fornax move their heads in close, until you feel the static of both their screens brushing against your face, and every whisper from their speakers. Both TVs stroke you and press themselves against you as they continue rubbing you off and using the inflatable buttplug to make you squirm and buck.

"Cum for me, Phaeton…" whispers Cygnus. "Cum for me, for us both…"

"You're so close, Phaeton…" whispers Fornax. Oh!

"Just a little further…"

"Just a little more… a little more for me, Phaeton."

"Let me hear that sound…" whispers Cygnus. "Let's hear that beautiful sound you make…"

"Cum for us…"

You arch your back and throw your head back, emitting a fluttering whisper-scream as you buck your hips frantically, squirting, until you are spent.

Cygnus deflates the plug and pulls it out of you, catching it in a handful of tissue, then throws it into the bucket. They snuggle into you as you breathe heavily, absolutely blissed out.

"…You weren't joking about the slime," comments Fornax, bringing things back to Earth with a bump. You wheeze a laugh.

The three of you cuddle for a time, and you doze a little. When you feel up to it, you get up to roll up the fuck-blanket and stash it in a laundry bag, then head to the bathroom for a quick clean-up. You return to your bedroom to find Cygnus and Fornax cuddling each other and touching the top bands of their head-casings together. You wriggle into them and join them in a cuddle-pile.

"Phaeton, would you… open my plating and give my wires a rub behind my charging port?" Cygnus asks quietly.

"You know I'd love to," you say, reaching into your bag of sex toys for a tool that'll let you open Cygnus's plating. Cygnus seems a little surprised that was in there - they probably expected you to go and fetch the tool from your little workshop. "We use it for fucking much more than we use it for maintenance," you say, "It made more sense to keep it in there." Cygnus can't argue with that.

Cygnus lies on their back and you open up their outer plating. Cygnus purrs in anticipation as you also open up the underlying panels of their frame, exposing their neatly-tied cables and wires and their moving components wrapped in protective membranes. As requested, you reach into Cygnus's body cavity and touch behind Cygnus's charging port, scruffling the cables that erupt from the back. Cygnus trills with delighted static and squirms slightly, before drawing one of their blades and fucking their charging port socket with it.

Fornax is clearly mesmerised by the sight. You notice them idly stroking their own charging port as they watch. "I've… always been curious about wireplay," says Fornax. "But I've never had the courage to try it. Cygnus, I didn't think you had it in you." (Cygnus purrs appreciatively.)

"Would you like to try it?" you ask. "Help me get Cygnus off and then we can see how you like it."

Fornax seems very excited by this prospect… They draw a blade and push it home in Cygnus's charging port. Cygnus responds by removing their own blade and pushing it into Fornax's, and the two TVs trill with delighted static as they blade-fuck each other's charging ports. Fornax uses their free hand to follow your example and rub Cygnus's cabling.

"Ohh… Oh, Fornax," says Cygnus, shuddering with delight at the combined touch of you and Fornax. You're delighted to see Cygnus this happy! You and Fornax soon see Cygnus tremble and thrash before they shudder to a standstill, holding in place in ecstasy, before flopping back, spent. Fornax and Cygnus retract their blades from each other. You and Fornax gently close and lock Cygnus's plating, under your direction, while Cygnus purrs their speakers.

You stroke Fornax's charging port. "Would you like to try?"

"…I really would. You'll both be nice and gentle with me, won't you?"

"I will be," you say. "I think Cygnus is a bit stunned right now."

Fornax lies down, and you slide the unlocking tool into their charging port while Fornax unbuttons their shirt. You feel Fornax shudder as their plating unlocks, and you hear them emit a quiet static hiss in what sounds as though it might be trepidation.

"Do you want to continue?" you ask. "We can stop right now and I'll lock your plating."

Fornax puts their hand on the unlocking tool, apparently thinking about how it feels in there. "…Continue," Fornax says.

You open Fornax's outer plating, spreading it like a beetle's wing-cases. You stroke the underlying frame struts. "Can I open you up?" you ask.

"Yes…" says Fornax quietly.

You open up Fornax's frame-panelling, noting the subtle differences between their insides and Cygnus's. "May I touch?"

"Yes…" Fornax whispers.

You slide a hand into Fornax, letting your fingers push into a bundle of purple cables and separate them. Regular static clicks come from Fornax's speakers, and increase in speed as you clench your fist and let the cables rub together. "Is this okay?" you ask softly.

"Ohh… it's so good."

As you gently scruffle and rub and tug a little at Fornax's cables, Cygnus sits up and joins you, pushing their own hand inside Fornax. Frantic patterns of static dissolve on Fornax's screen as they get more and more worked up.

Cygnus draws a blade. "Do you want me to?"

"Oh Cygnus, yes…"

Cygnus blade-fucks Fornax while using their free hand to ruffle the cables behind Fornax's charging port. Fornax appears to be dissolving in paroxysms of ecstasy. You grip a handful of cables and pull them slowly until they're taut, making Fornax cry out in joy.

You lower your head and nuzzle some cables in Fornax's lower body, in a space where you won't get in the way of Cygnus's blade-thrusts. Fornax shakily raises a hand and strokes your head - how nice. You squeak happily, not having expected that. Fornax pushes your head down further… Oh. They're really into this…

You gently gather some cables in your mouth and bite down ever so slightly, pushing your tongue between them and rolling the cables around in your mouth.

"Oh, Phaeton!" Fornax cries out, gripping your hair. "Oh, Phaeton, more, oh please more!" Cygnus purrs appreciatively at seeing and hearing Fornax's reaction.

You and Cygnus work in tandem, Cygnus attending to Fornax's charging port, making their blade dance over the connection points and massaging the cables behind, while you kiss and lick cables and gently pull them with your teeth. Fornax cums hard, writhing under Cygnus and gripping a handful of your hair, while emitting a string of random static noises and chirps… until they lie still, the vertical hold on their screen slipping.

You close Fornax up nicely while Cygnus cuddles and strokes them. Cygnus extends an arm to invite you to cuddle too, and you gladly press into the two pretty TVs and enjoy a sleepy cuddle.

"I guess I like wireplay," Fornax eventually comments. The three of you laugh. "Oh, my friends, that was wonderful."

Cygnus decides to put their clothes back on - their sensors are starting to become a little irritated without their outer coverings. Fornax puts on the rest of theirs, and you sling on some clean nightwear. As you rest in your bed together, Cygnus announces, "There's something I've been meaning to discuss with you both." Both you and Fornax pay attention. "Phaeton and I discovered that my command-beam is… a little too powerful for us to use for recreational purposes. My new screen is stronger than my previous one and I need practice with it. Fornax, would you let me command you? And Phaeton, would you supervise us and break us apart if something doesn't look right?"

It makes more sense to practice on Fornax than on you - Fornax has a command-beam of their own and can 'retaliate'. You have no such ability. But still, you know it's a tall ask - using the command-beam is an ultimate expression of trust between TVs. It strikes you that it was possibly a little unkind of Cygnus to ask Fornax in front of you - will your presence make Fornax feel more obliged to say yes? You're about to say something to Fornax about how they don't have to… then you remember Cygnus's words from earlier, asking that you should accept nice things without reflexively throwing back an 'are you sure?' Cygnus surely knows Fornax well enough to pick up on it if Fornax would really rather not. You'll wait and see what Fornax has to say.

"You use your command-beam on Phaeton?" Fornax asks Cygnus.

"Yes," you say, "It was my idea in the first place. I very much enjoy it… when it works the way we want it to." The last time Cygnus had used their command-beam on you, its power made you almost lose yourself. It felt so good that you'd been ready to just let it happen, and Cygnus had to forcibly stop you.

"That's… very trusting of you," says Fornax.

"Cygnus is very trustworthy," you point out. You press yourself into Cygnus and hug them with a squeeze. "My sweetest friend." Cygnus buzzes their speakers with happiness at your words, and their screen floods with hot-pink heart emoticons.

"I'd be happy to help," says Fornax. "Phaeton, can you find something solid that you can hold between our screens if something doesn't look right?"

"I'm sure I've got something in my workshop," you say. "Sheets of MDF or something." You get up and look in your workshop, returning with your protective safety-glasses and a bit of particle-board a little bigger than a TV's screen.

"That'll do nicely," says Fornax. "I'm ready when you both are."

"Ready to intervene," you say. This should be a treat to watch, you think.

Cygnus and Fornax sit opposite each other. Cygnus's screen blazes purple - it's so beautiful, even without the hypnotising effect. Fornax's screen shimmers with static, then flattens into featureless monochrome as they deliberately let their defences down and let Cygnus in, then blooms in sympathetic purple as the command-beam takes hold.

To your surprise, Cygnus falls over backwards. ('How do you fall over from a sitting position?' you think.) Both TVs' screens fade out the purple light and return to normal, without you having to use your particle-board. Was Fornax's command-beam actually the stronger of the two?

"I think the problem is not so much that your command-beam is stronger than before," says Fornax as Cygnus sits up again, "But that you don't have great overall control over it. I'll help you practice more later if you need it, but I think your best bet is to re-do the calibration patterns." Fornax pulls Cygnus into a cuddle and the two TVs gently touch their head-casings together.

The rest of the day passes in a delicious fog of sleepy handsy cuddles, playing videogames and eating snacks in bed. (Cygnus brought with them an in-date tin of peaches that they'd found, and feeds them to you.) You lie between Cygnus and Fornax, reflecting on what a lovely and relaxing day you've had. "Thank you for looking after me today," you say. "You've both been so sweet to me." Both TVs purr their speakers and move in to cuddle you. You almost want this to never end… but you do want to see your beloved Titan again.

As you'd hoped, you get a call that evening from Engineer Sixty-Eight. "Hello Phaeton," they say. "We've just closed down for the night. Do you feel up to coming in briefly to say goodnight to the Titan?"

"I'd love to," you say, "I'll be over very shortly."

You put on a layer of clothes so you're in something more presentable than nightwear, then Cygnus and Fornax port the three of you over to TV Base. They walk you to the entrance to the Titan's hangar, where you give the security guards a friendly fist-bump each in greeting. You give Fornax a goodbye hug, and Cygnus remains where they are to port you home once you're done with the Titan.

"Hello Phaeton," the Titan says as you approach. "I missed you today. Let me pick you up."

"Of course," you say, walking onto the Titan's offered hand and letting it wrap its hands safely around you. The Titan lifts you to its screen and emits a purry rumble as you rub its screen goodnight.

"How are you, boss?" you ask.

"A little frustrated," admits the Titan. "I was prepared to kill the Skibidi leader, and the motherfucker escaped. Did you see the broadcast?"

"I did," you say. You, Cygnus and Fornax had watched it on your tablets together. "I really did think you were going to succeed. But, if I may offer my analysis as your engineer, I surmise that your biggest weakness is that you assume you will always steamroll the enemy with your superior power, and therefore it doesn't occur to you that anything else might happen other than the planned scenario you have in mind. And then when something else does happen, you don't change course fast enough. You're like a freight train, boss, and you need to be like water. Fluid and changing to its surroundings."

The Titan picks you up from its palm and sets you down on the walkway - gently enough to not hurt you, but more unceremoniously than it normally would. "Good night, Phaeton," it says flatly.

The Titan actually turns its screens off so it doesn't have to look at you. You've never seen it do that before.

You've fucked up.

You scurry away, thoroughly dejected, into one of the control rooms near the hangar's main entrance. For some reason you don't want the Titan to hear you cry.

You message Sixty-Eight: "Please can you come back to the hangar? I think I've offended the Titan and it would probably prefer your company right now." All comms that go through the hangar are logged for monitoring purposes, but you don't care about that right now.

From your vantage point, you see Sixty-Eight and their deputy Twelve enter the hangar and then port over to the Titan. You're pleased to see the Titan pick up Sixty-Eight and bring them to their screen. Sixty-Eight strokes the Titan's screen and is probably saying something soothing. You're still upset, but you feel a little better knowing that the Titan is being comforted by its favourite engineer. You take this chance to slink away before the Titan turns its screens back on and sees you still here.

Cygnus is waiting for you outside. You practically throw yourself at them and manage to tearfully choke out "Take me home." Cygnus unhesitatingly embraces you and ports you back to your quarters. They pick you up and carry you to your sofa.

"Oh, Phaeton, my dear friend, what happened?" Cygnus asks. They hold you comfortingly and stroke your back while you finish crying.

"I've upset the Titan," you say tearfully. "I feel rotten."

"I'm so sorry," Cygnus says softly. "My dear Phaeton, I wish I could fix everything for you."

"I had such a lovely day today," you say. "And then I went and did that."

Cygnus rubs your back. "For what it's worth, I doubt there's anything you could say that would make the Titan fall out with you. It really does love you." You know that, because the Titan told you itself. And Cygnus knows it too, in a way that you never could, from the time they were able to briefly brush minds with the Titan. "Can you… bear to tell me what went down?"

You recap what you'd said to the Titan.

"It'll get over it," Cygnus says. "I know that doesn't make you feel better right now, but please don't fall into despair."

"Thanks, buddy."

"I have to work all day tomorrow," says Cygnus, "But I can stay here for a little while longer if you'd like me to. Do you want to go to bed and I'll cuddle you until you fall asleep?"

"I'd love that."

You perform your bedtime ablutions and get into bed, into which Cygnus follows you. They pull you to them and wrap themself around you. "You'll feel a bit better after a night's sleep, won't you?" asks Cygnus.

"Yeah. I'll feel better in the morning," you reply.

"Have another day of rest tomorrow," says Cygnus. "Give yourself time to make sure you're fully healed, and give the Titan time to get over itself. You want some white noise?"

"I'd love some. You're my nicest friend, Cygnus. I love you."

"I love you, Phaeton. Sleep well." Cygnus plays some soft white noise through their speakers to soothe you to sleep.

┄

You awake, alone again. You hope Cygnus isn't working themself too hard right now - they'll have to catch up on all the work they put off so they could spend yesterday with you. You work up the energy to have a good scratch while you think about what you're going to do today and introspect your own feelings. You're still sad about how the Titan reacted, and you feel stupid for not seeing it coming. Still. Shit happens, as TVs say. And Cygnus is no doubt correct that the Titan will get over it.

Over your breakfast, you mentally compile a plan for an experiment that's been brewing in the back of your mind since you and Fornax fucked yesterday. Being on the Titan's engineering team gives you access to its schematics - and to Polycephaly's, who was built as a prototype for the Titan and still goes to the Titan hangar for maintenance. You'd have to be physically present in the Titan's hangar to access the servers containing the most confidential details of the schematics, but the basic details you can look up from your tablet in the comfort of your own quarters.

You scroll through the previews of Polycephaly's schematics, looking for information about their charging port and their blades. There are 3D models of both available to download - that's exactly what you need; you almost can't believe your luck. (You'd been expecting to find just the dimensions.) But in order to download them you'll need to log the request - it'll go through automatically but it'll be logged for audit purposes. …Under 'reason for download' you put 'Sexual purposes'. Why lie about it?

You download the 3D models and load them on your PC, and set to work modelling a couple of variants. (Luckily, there's not much to do; you just need to change the dimensions slightly.) Once you're happy with your on-screen creation, you submit a ticket to use a CNC milling machine here in the Antlia-Four base. Luckily it goes through without incident - Antlia-Four is a small base and gets most of its parts from supply drops from bigger bases. There aren't many parts being manufactured from scratch here, which means there are enough free slots for you to take one up to make a custom fuck toy. (You still have to 'pay' for it in session credits, as a preventative measure against everyone manufacturing stupid crap all the time. This will use up all your credits, but fuck it, Polycephaly is worth it.)

While your customised items mill themselves into existence, you prepare your personal workshop for your project, until you get a notification on your communicator that the items are ready for pickup.

You make your way to the manufacturing zone to collect your finished articles - one of them a fine 3D-printed mesh, the other a mold that you'll need for the next part of the process. You use some material requisition credits to 'purchase' some latex. And what the hell, some purple dye for it.

"Question: Sun Driver builds new weapon?" signs a Camera-unit (calling you by your Camsign name) on seeing you pick up your bunch of items.

"Not this time," you say, "I'm making a sex toy."

"Self should not have asked," signs the Camera.

You bring the parts back to your quarters and get to work…

You message Polycephaly. "Not working today. Would love to hang out - let me know if you're up for it."

Polycephaly replies with a selfie of them standing on a pile of skibidi corpses - you send back a thumbs-up emoji. Polycephaly sends another message: "I'll call you when I'm done and debriefed. If I find any broccoli out here I'll pick some up for you." You reply with a heart emoji.

You get a call from Polycephaly just as you've finished some batch-cooking and are boxing it up to eat later. "Hello, Phaeton," says Polycephaly. "Is now a good time to talk?"

"It is," you say, moving boxes to the freezer.

"How's my favourite meatsack?"

"Improving," you say. "I'm hoping I can return to work tomorrow… if the Titan isn't too pissed off with me. I fucked up, Polycephaly! I made the Titan upset with me."

"I heard," Polycephaly says. "I don't know the details, but I got a summary from Sixty-Eight when I went to the hangar to get my blades tightened. You criticised the Titan's battle tactics, didn't you?"

"…Yeah. That's what I did."

"It probably needed to hear it, even if it didn't like it. You know as well as I do what a diva the Titan can be. The Titan will get over it, Phaeton. It'll be okay."

"Thanks, Polycephaly. I'm glad to hear you think so." Polycephaly and the Titan are very close.

"And if it doesn't get over it, I'll talk sense into it until it does. Polycephaly's got your back."

"I'm so happy to hear that. You're a nice friend, you know?"

"No more so than you. Did you want to hang out?"

"I really do! Your place or mine?"

"Mine, if we could," says Polycephaly. "Yours is rather cramped. How about I pick you up from the main hub in Antlia-Four at the top of the hour?"

"That suits me just fine," you say, "Gives me a bit of time to get all my ducks in a row."

"I'll see you and your ducks later, then."

"Ah'll sithee, Polycephaly."

You prepare your bag of stuff to take with you. There's your new toy, of course, which you're keen to test on Polycephaly. You pack your portable urinal in case you need a piss - Polycephaly's quarters will no doubt have floor drains, but they might not be happy about the idea of you using them for that purpose. You pack snacks, tissues, and a few other useful bits. When it's time, you go to the main hub of the base and meet Polycephaly, who teleports the pair of you to their quarters.

"What would you like to do?" asks Polycephaly. "Chess? Movies? Go for a walk somewhere so you can get excited about endless identical brown fungi and endless identical black scurrying arthropods?" You and Polycephaly both laugh.

"I'd like to fuck you," you say.

Polycephaly picks you up and cuddles you to their torso. "A fine idea, Phaeton. I'd love you to." Polycephaly draws back a room-dividing curtain, revealing their sleeping area. They don't have a cosy soft bed like a human would: techfolk don't really need a soft sleeping surface because their cabled machine 'muscles' don't work the same way as an organic's. Most techfolk still like to lie down flat while recharging, and Polycephaly has a raised sleeping area (with storage space underneath) that enables this.

Polycephaly sits on their 'bed' and sits you down next to them. "Did you have anything in particular in mind? Did you want to stand in my core chamber again and poke my charging port?"

You would like to poke Polycephaly in the charging port, actually. That's what the thing in your bag is for… but there's something you can't get out of your mind. "If you're willing," you begin, "I'd like for you to hold me and wrap me up in your stems. You did that when you caught me on the gantry, and… I really liked being held and touched in that way. I'd love for you to do it again, against my skin this time."

"And what would I get out of that?" Polycephaly teases.

"Besides pleasing your nice friend? Well, there's actually something else I'd love to try with you afterwards, that I think you'll really like."

Polycephaly laughs. "Of course I'll do that for you, my friend."

Polycephaly strips naked. You've seen their exposed charging port and core chamber before, as well as all their schematic diagrams, so you reckoned you had a good idea what to expect. The sight, however, exceeds all your expectations…

"Polycephaly, you're beautiful," you hear yourself saying, frozen with surprise in a state of mid-undress. You gaze at the sleek jet-black panels of Polycephaly's plating, with their elegant obsidian-black seams connecting them. Their joints are plated with little hexagonal plates arranged like chainmail, in that same obsidian-black as the larger plating's seams. Polycephaly has dark purple trim like racing stripes, as well as elegant gold circuity, bright and burnished-looking. Their overall appearance is absolutely gorgeous. Unclothed techfolk normally have a kind of wretched and unfinished look to them, but not Polycephaly. You find yourself thinking what a shame it is that Polycephaly normally hides it all under clothing.

Polycephaly seems amused by how much you're admiring them. They deliberately unfurl all their stems and flex them hypnotically, mesmerising you. "See something you like?" asks Polycephaly.

"Hnnnngghh." You've gone stupid.

Polycephaly sits down on their bed again. "Bring it in. I know you want to." They hold out their hands to pick you up.

You come to your senses enough to finish undressing, then eagerly shuffle forward into Polycephaly's arms. They very gently gather you up, being conscious of their bare plating against your naked flesh, and lift you to hold you to their torso. A purr rises in your throat at the feel of Polycephaly's warm metal plating, and the soft thrum from the movement of the cabled machine-muscles underneath. Polycephaly strokes your body with their backs of their fingers, making you quiver in delight.

"Aren't you soft?" says Polycephaly appreciatively. "Not a seam to you… all flexible and squidgy." You cluck with pleasure as Polycephaly traces a fingertip over you, gauging the springiness of your flesh and the differences in surface textures and firmness on different parts of your body. "May I?" asks Polycephaly, bringing their index finger tantalisingly close to your crotch…

"Yes…" you breathe excitedly.

Polycephaly ever-so-gently grinds their fingertip against your junk, letting you push yourself into the movement. Your breath shudders. Polycephaly runs their other hand down your back, making the hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end.

"You wanted these, didn't you?" whispers Polycephaly, as they regally unfurl all their stems and bring the connectors in close.

You exhale raggedly as one of the stem connectors strokes your cheek. "Ye-e-e-ss."

Polycephaly gathers you in their arms and lies on their back, then brings their stems in to wrap you. Polycephaly lifts you with their hands and coils one of their stems around your body, making you squeak with delight… then coils another, and another. Polycephaly moves their hands away as their stems take your weight, and the final stem coils around you, wrapping your body and legs in a steely cocoon. You shudder as Polycephaly squeezes and flexes their stems.

"Is it everything you hoped for?" asks Polycephaly, scritching your head with finger and thumb.

You emit a fluttering keen of delight. "Oh, Polycephaly…" is all you manage to say.

You arms aren't wrapped up, but there is enough mass of stem coiled around you that you can't reach your own junk… which can only have been intentional on Polycephaly's part. Polycephaly brings a hand in near your junk, holding it teasingly near… Polycephaly gently squeezes all their stems in a rippling motion, the movement like a massage you all over your body and legs. You cry out in delight.

"Ohh, look at you," says Polycephaly softly. "All worked up… and no way to give yourself relief."

"Hnnggh-ahhh-hhhh…" you gasp as Polycephaly gives you another rippling squeeze and strokes your thigh with a finger, tickling the exposed flesh between their coils.

"This does please me greatly…" Polycephaly says as they continue to rile you up further, rippling and squeezing their coils, tightening them but never giving you more than you can handle. They stroke your junk with a fingertip, fluffing your pubes and probing the soft folds where your crotch meets the tops of your thighs. You find yourself thrusting your hips against nothing, bucking into the grip of Polycephaly's stems.

"You're getting warmer. I can feel it," says Polycephaly, teasing your junk with their finger, working your prepuce and rubbing it gently against your glans. "And slimier," comments Polycephaly. "Your junk's making itself all fat from excitement." Your hands make frantic grabby motions - Polycephaly is driving you wild and you dearly want to rub yourself off. You grab handfuls of stem and delightedly-desperately squeeze. "You want this, don't you?" says Polycephaly.

"Oh!" you exclaim. You start to squeak and pant as Polycephaly rubs your junk in earnest, responding to how you buck against their fingers, and continues to clench and pulsate their stems wrapping you.

You cum with a roar, shuddering to a climax and then lying still, uselessly floppy in your cocoon of metal stems. Polycephaly gently disengages their stems from you and sets you down to lie on their front. You happily relax on your big friend while Polycephaly strokes your head.

"Was that nice for you?" Polycephaly croons.

"Oh, Polycephaly… oh, it really was… Ohh, I wanna lick all the gold plating off your circuits…"

Polycephaly laughs at your last remark. "Have a little rest and then you can show me whatever-it-was you wanted to try with me?"

"Yeah. …Ease off on stroking me, or I'll actually fall asleep. 'S very nice. …Ahh." After a couple of minutes of lying still, you sit up. "Pass me my bag, would you?"

Polycephaly does so, and you pull out the prototype fuck-toy you made. "Dare I ask what that does?" Polycephaly asks.

"If you're willing, I'd like to push it into your charging port," you explain. "If I've made it correctly, it should slide on in. When I inflate the air bladder, the rubber membranes will push this outer mesh further outwards so it presses into all the connector points inside your charging port." You'd harvested the air bladder from one of your inflatable toys. No big loss - the things were mass-produced and you can surely find a replacement in the ruins of a sex shop.

"There's a thing…" says Polycephaly curiously. "I would like to let you try it on me. But how are you going to stuff some floppy rubber blades in my sockets?"

"Thought of that," you say. "They're not empty rubber sacks; they've got metal rods acting as cores."

"I should have expected as much from a Titan engineer. Alright, let me pull my own cover back. It can get kind of sensitive if you don't do it just so." Polycephaly pulls the cover back on their charging port. "Alright, Phaeton, show me what you and your device can do."

You push the mesh-coated rubber blades into Polycephaly's charging port, letting gravity assist you. Polycephaly emits a curious rumble at the novel sensation. ('I haven't even started the expansion' you think.) "Are you comfy so far?" you say, jiggling the blades a little so they settle just so.

"It's all good," says Polycephaly. "Let's have the main event."

You begin squeezing the air bladder so that the rubber blades expand inside Polycephaly's charging port, pressing their covering mesh outwards and up against the metal connectors. "I'm going to fill you with so much pleasure, you won't know which way is up." Polycephaly rumbles contentedly as you ramp up the pressure, forcing the metal mesh to press itself harder and harder against the connector points… You tease Polycephaly, opening the air valve and letting the blades deflate and the pressure on Polycephaly's charging sockets decrease. You continue, alternately inflating and deflating the device, paying attention to Polycephaly's motion and sounds of contentment.

"Can I try?" Polycephaly asks.

"Of course," you say. "I made it for you, after all." You pass Polycephaly the air bladder - it's comically small in their hand, and they operate it with finger and thumb. (You wonder if they can manage the tiny air valve - you should really have sourced a bigger pump for the device.)

Polycephaly squirms happily under you as they keep increasing the pressure in the device filling their charging sockets, growling with pleasure as the mesh presses harder into them. They keep going…

"…Hey, you might want to stop," you point out. Polycephaly is evidently enjoying this, but the air bladder isn't. It's made for human hands and Polycephaly's much mightier grip is forcing it to keep going past the point a human would be forced to stop. Polycephaly squeezes the hopelessly turgid air bladder one time too many, and it splits open, instantly deflating the rubber blades. Polycephaly emits a static squawk of surprise, to your amusement. You laugh - "Sorry, but not sorry. That was pretty funny." You cackle as Polycephaly pulls the device out of them. "It definitely needs a more robust pump," you say. "Other than that, what do you think? Proof of concept demonstrated?"

"It's a brilliant idea," says Polycephaly. "Can I keep it? I want to try modifying it."

"Of course you can keep it," you say. "It was meant for you." Polycephaly sets the remains of the device down on the floor. "I take it you didn't cum," you say.

"I did not."

"I'd love to pleasure you still. …You know, the Titan very much enjoyed it when I went behind its core chamber and stroked all the wires there. I wonder if that would be nice for you too."

"…I'd like to find out," says Polycephaly. "Do you have an unlocking tool for my plating?"

"Of course," you say, pulling it out of your bag. Did Polycephaly really expect otherwise from you? You slot the unlocking tool into Polycephaly's charging port and turn it until you hear the sound of something releasing. You shiver slightly in anticipation, knowing that you can do this only with Polycephaly's co-operation and that they're trusting you.

You open up Polycephaly's torso plating. You know what to expect from their schematics, and you let the open plating fold neatly as you go. You reach inside Polycephaly, stroking the side of their core chamber, prompting what sounds like a pleading whine of static. Polycephaly is enjoying your touch already… how will they feel when your hand reaches the cables at the back? You lean forward so you can scruffle the nest of cables with your fingertips, making Polycephaly exclaim and writhe slightly. "Too much?" you ask.

"Oh, I'd like more than that…" says Polycephaly.

"That's as far as I can reach from up here," you say. "…Could I climb inside you?"

By way of answer, Polycephaly picks you up and lowers you into their body cavity. You hold onto their frame as you descend, sliding between the gunmetal-grey translucent membranes made of something looking like tyvek or aramid fibre, and gently pushing cables aside as you burrow. There's more space inside Polycephaly's body cavity than you expected to see… but it makes perfect sense. Their stems need space in which to retract… space into which you could probably squeeze. You make your way to the space inside the rear wall of Polycephaly's plating, where their stems coil up when not in use. You hear Polycephaly shudderingly buzz their speakers and feel them tremble from the stimulation of your warm weight.

"You're so nice and warm inside," you say, raising your voice slightly to hear yourself over Polycephaly's inner workings.

"Oh… you're nice and warm inside me too."

You nuzzle the nest of cabling coming out of the rear wall of Polycephaly's charging port.

"Oh, Phaeton," you hear Polycephaly say. "That feels wonderful. Can you work the cables behind my core chamber again? That felt so good… Oh!" Polycephaly exclaims as you huff your warm mammal breath into the charging port cables.

You position yourself for what you intend to do, wriggling your body into the space just in front of Polycephaly's centrally-located spinal column. Polycephaly isn't quite sure what you're doing, you think, but they sound as though they're excited by it anyway. You nestle your face into the cables coming out of the charging port, and plant a kiss on the back of the charging port cylinder. Polycephaly's speakers crackle with static. You arrange yourself so your junk is burying itself in the morass of cables coming out of the back of Polycephaly's core chamber, and you gently thrust into them.

"Oh!" exclaims Polycephaly. "Are you… doing what I think you're doing?"

"Yeah, probably. …May I continue?"

"Ohh… yes…"

You continue playing with Polycephaly's cabling, rubbing their charging port cylinder with your hands while you nuzzle its cables, and thrusting your junk into the cables behind their core chamber, while you grip the core chamber cylinder itself with your calves. You can feel every rumble coming from Polycephaly as they exclaim. As they buck and flex, you flex with them, your spine moving with theirs. You feel so mighty, knowing that you're the one making this colossal TV writhe like this even as their movements force you to move as one.

"Cum for me, Polycephaly," you whisper into the nest of cables in front of your face, not expecting Polycephaly to be able to hear. You tease the cables between your teeth as Polycephaly shudders to completion, their speakers emitting a wall of bellowed frequencies.

"Oh, Phaeton…" Polycephaly says quietly once they've recovered. "I'll… I'll help you out in a sec… Just… Oh… Oh, that was good. Give me a minute."

You lie still for a short time, listening to the soft sounds of Polycephaly's inner workings. "Polycephaly," you begin, "There's something else I'd like to try, if you're willing… Would you slowly retract your stems so they squeeze me as they spool back in?"

"…Are you sure that's what you want? Might that not be dangerous for you? I'm worried about my hurting you with my stems. I don't have such precise control over them when they're all folded up inside me."

"I believe it'll be fine. If you pull your stems in nice and slowly, and if you stop if I call out."

"And you will be careful? …I know you like to lose yourself in the heat of the moment. Will you notice if I start to pull my stems into a position that's going to hurt you?"

Of course you want to answer yes… You stroke the inside of Polycephaly's plating to show you're thinking. You remember Sixty-Eight's urgings to be honest with yourself about your limits. You will be careful. "I'll notice," you say. "I want this… But I could never ask you to do something that you're not comfortable with."

It's Polycephaly's turn to pause to think. "…I do want to do this with you. I'll be careful with you. Go ahead and get into place."

You slide yourself out from the gap full of cables, and lower yourself further down into Polycephaly, enjoying the feel of membranes and ribbon cables against your skin.

"Are you ready now?" asks Polycephaly.

"Ohh… yes…"

"Here it comes." Polycephaly's stems start retracting, the powerful motors at their bases reeling them back in.

The space around you starts to fill in with spooling stems, conforming to the shape of your body and the inside of Polycephaly's. The stems press in on you from all directions.

"How's that?" says Polycephaly, holding their stems still.

"More, please!"

Polycephaly retracts their stems further, surrounding you with more warm weight that presses into you.

"How are you doing, Phaeton?"

You want to cry out 'more!' but you remember that you need to be careful. "Hold it around here, would you? Can you squirm your stems against me a little?"

"I can try," says Polycephaly. They make their stems twitch against you, squirming them so they vary the pressing and squeezing against you.

"Keep going, keep going," you say, your voice straining with lust as you begin to masturbate.

"If you cum inside me, you're damn well cleaning it up," says Polycephaly. "Why don't you come out of there and let me rub you off?"

"…Yeah. Let's do that. Push your stems out, would you?"

Polycephaly protracts all their stem to empty out the cavity and give you space. You wriggle upwards through the jungle of cables and membranes, until you breach the surface and Polycephaly can lift you out. "Close my plating for me," Polycephaly instructs - you do so. "Now," says Polycephaly, "Shall I get you off, or has your mood gone?"

You think for a second about what you want. "Would you hold me and pet me while I masturbate?"

"But of course."

Polycephaly lays their hands on you and strokes you firmly, bordering on massage, as you rub yourself off. Polycephaly's touch makes you squirm and gasp. You feel the motion that comes from Polycephaly moving their stems and picking something up…

To your surprise, you see two of Polycephaly's stems entering your field of vision, bearing the subwoofers that Polycephaly sometimes uses in the field. Polycephaly brings the subwoofers in, one on either side of you, and presses them into your sides as they start playing a very low frequency, imperceptible to your hearing but absolutely palpable to your flesh.

"Ohhh…" you hear yourself saying, as Polycephaly strokes your thighs under their hands and makes their subwoofers nuzzle your sides.

"I take it you enjoy this?" asks Polycephaly.

"Ohh… yes…"

"Such a lustful human you are," teases Polycephaly as they rile you up more and more. "Oh… you're getting close, aren't you?"

You choke out a squawk. Oh, Polycephaly remembered you love hearing that…

Polycephaly varies the pattern of vibrations coming from their subwoofers, changing from a continuous buzz to a pulsating pattern that builds up and tails off, builds up and tails off, builds… up…

You shudder as you whine and moan, the sounds streaming out of your throat until they pile up into a shout, and then you are still.

You see Polycephaly's subwoofer's retreat, and hear the sounds of them being set down and disconnected, and Polycephaly's stems retracting. Polycephaly gives you a little time to lie there, relaxed, then asks: "Did you bring a blanket in that bag of yours?"

"Yeah. Can you pass it, please?"

You expect Polycephaly to pass you the bag so you can get the blanket out, but they take the blanket out themself and wrap you up in it like a sausage roll. Oh, so nice and cosy!

"If you'd like," says Polycephaly, "If you can source a futon or something, I'll store it under my bed for you. Then you'll have something soft to sleep on next time you stay here. You humans prefer soft sleeping surfaces, don't you?"

"That's right," you say sleepily. "That's very accommodating of you. Aren't you nice?"

Polycephaly strokes you by way of reply. You start to drift off into dreamless sleep… You suddenly jerk awake.

"What was that?" asks Polycephaly. "Are you alright?" Polycephaly puts their hand on you gently.

"I'm fine," you say. "It's just organic bullshit. When we go to sleep, our heartbeats slow down. Sometimes they slow down too fast, so the brain thinks the body is dying and jerks it awake. Basically I fell asleep too hard, and my brain went 'no, don't die on me!'"

"That's honestly rather funny," says Polycephaly. They stroke your back with a finger. You appreciate how it soothes your jangled nerves, and this time you drift off into a peaceful little sleep…

You awake to the sound of your communicator and to the sensation of Polycephaly stroking you awake. Polycephaly passes the communicator to you, and you wriggle out of the blanket roll so you can answer. It's Engineer Twelve, the deputy lead from the Titan's engineering team. "You've got Phaeton," you say.

"Did I wake you?" asks Twelve. Your voice must have betrayed you.

"You did. Don't worry about it, though."

"I'm glad that you were resting, at least. How is your health?"

"Improving," you say. "I reckon I could come back tomorrow, as long as I stick to the less strenuous tasks. I know Sixty-Eight told me not to come back just for the sake of coming back, but I'd feel I was taking the piss if I took tomorrow off entirely. I'd like to at least come in and see how I feel. Maybe I can do an admin catch-up and clear all the backlog. And it's probably best I don't do anything that involves directly interacting with the Titan."

"That is partly why I called you. Sixty-Eight and the Titan would like to see you. Are you up for visiting the hangar tonight after closedown?"

"I can do that," you say. How fortunate that you're already in TV Base.

You and Twelve say your goodbyes. You decide to put your clothes back on so you'll be ready to visit the Titan later. Polycephaly follows suit ('Heh, literally follows suit' you think).

You and Polycephaly go a few rounds of chess, with Polycephaly using a pair of kitchen tongs to pick up the pieces. Polycephaly wipes the floor with you each time - part of you is slightly annoyed at your inability to win, but most of you is glad that Polycephaly takes you seriously as an opponent and doesn't just let you win.

"You're not cheating by loading a chess-playing app in your processor, are you?" you ask, half-joking.

"Phaeton, you wound me," says Polycephaly with mock-hurt. "No, only using my default processing. This is all Polycephaly."

The time comes for normal closedown in the Titan's hangar. "Did you still want to go to the hangar?" Polycephaly asks.

"Of course," you say.

"I'll walk you over," says Polycephaly, and you set off. You arrive, and Polycephaly picks you up for a hug to bolster your courage before you go in.

Sixty-Eight is waiting for you just inside the hangar entrance. "Let's talk in one of the control rooms," they say. You follow Sixty-Eight to one of the glass-walled rooms build into the walls of the hangar. The Titan is sitting with its back to you - you have no idea what kind of expression might be on its screens.

You and Sixty-Eight sit opposite each other. "Part of me wishes you hadn't done that," says Sixty-Eight. "Twelve and I have had to spend a lot of time soothing the Titan's hurt feelings." You feel an awful pang of guilt - you hadn't meant to make the Titan feel that way, or create more work for your colleagues. "But part of me is glad you did," continues Sixty-Eight, sounding slightly amused.

Sixty-Eight looks down at the table for a moment, apparently gathering their thoughts before continuing. "It was a difficult choice to select one of the sixteen candidates to become the Titan. All of them had strong battle skills, but they also all had weaknesses. I had to consider which would make the least disadvantageous weakness as well as which would translate to the strongest skills in Titan form. …I don't regret my choice, but that was one trepidation I had with that candidate. They had a mighty ego, bordering on vanity."

TVs are a proud bunch in general. The fact that the Titan, in their pre-upgrade form as a normal unit, was already considered egotistical by TV standards is saying something.

"I chose them anyway because of their great battle skills and courage," Sixty-Eight continues. "But, as you've seen, when magnified to Titan scale, that self-assuredness can easily tip into over-confidence and an inability to adapt."

You nod. You do love the Titan dearly, but you cannot deny that it's both very proud and easily provoked.

"I love our Titan," continues Sixty-Eight, almost as though they read your thoughts. "But you can't make a decision as momentous as that without wondering if you should have done it differently."

"I've wondered before what it would have been like if you'd selected Palindrome," you say. Engineer Ninety-Seven-Seventy-Nine was a Titan candidate before they retrained as an engineer so they could still contribute to Project Titan. "They would have made a very sweet Titan."

"I'm sure you're right," says Sixty-Eight. "But of course we need a battle-worthy Titan more than we need a sweet Titan. …I said I don't regret my choice, but in a way I always will. I condemned a TV to forever being a war engine. The Titan signed up for this, I know, but it will never again be able to go back to being a normal unit. I took that away from them forever. …And sometimes I wonder 'who gave you the right?'"

You wordlessly get up and step over to Sixty-Eight, holding your arms out to offer them a hug. Sixty-Eight hesitates a moment, then gets up and accepts your hug. "Thank you for listening, Phaeton."

"Thank you for telling me," you say. "I'm very grateful that you still invited me to join the engineering team even though we didn't get off to the best start." (The first time you fucked the Titan, you didn't check with Sixty-Eight first whether that would have any lasting effects. It had. Everything got sorted in the end, but Sixty-Eight had not been happy with you for a time.)

"Shit happens," says Sixty-Eight with a smiling emoticon.

You break off the hug. "Have you talked to the Titan engineers from the other factions about this? They probably feel the same way as you about their own Titans."

"I haven't," says Sixty-Eight. "Perhaps I should. Anyway, the Titan awaits. Will you talk to them?"

"Absolutely," you say. If they'll listen… You follow Sixty-Eight out of the control room and along the criss-crossing walkways to the Titan. It must be aware of your approach, but it's evidently pretending not to notice.

You and Sixty-Eight arrive in front of the Titan. It inclines its head and stares at you without expression. For a couple of seconds, nothing happens. You wonder if the Titan is going to tell you to piss off. Is it waiting for you to say something first? Wordlessly, the Titan places a hand palm-up on the walkway in front of you - a clear invitation to step on.

You gratefully step onto the Titan's hand, and it raises you to its screen. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" you ask.

"I just might forgive you…" says the Titan. "If you rub my screen nicely."

You lay your hands on the Titan's screen and rub in circles. A soft crackle, the beginnings of a purr, is just audible from the Titan's speakers. "Would you move me closer to the edge?" you ask. "I know you like it best there."

"How well you know me," says the Titan. It moves its hand so you can press your hand into the valley where the Titan's screen meets its casing. The soft crackling becomes a soft clicking. Eventually, the Titan emits a rumble of static like a satisfied sigh. "Who's my favourite human?" it asks.

"It's got to be John Logie Baird, hasn't it? You wouldn't exist without him."

"John Logie Baird never gave me a core flush or rubbed my screen. It's you, Phaeton. You knew that, didn't you?" the Titan asks with amusement.

"Of course I did, boss," you say as the Titan moves its other hand in to stroke you. You trill happily under its touch and lie down in the Titan's palm.

"I hated hearing what you had to say," says the Titan, "But I realised it came from a place of love. You said it to me because you believed I could take it on board and improve."

You squeak involuntarily as the Titan's fingertip just happens to tickle you, making you fold into a V. It doesn't normally tickle when the Titan touches you, but this time it just happened to.

"You look like a shrimp folded up like that," the Titan observes, displaying an amused emoticon on its main screen. The Titan strokes your back to make you relax and unfold. "If you hadn't believed me capable of self-improvement," the Titan continues, "You wouldn't have brought it up. Because to criticise me for something I can't change would have been pointlessly cruel. And I don't believe you'd ever do that to me, Phaeton."

You fiercely hug the Titan's finger, not trusting yourself to speak without crying. You're so happy and relieved and grateful that the Titan holds you in such regard. The Titan seems to understand how you feel, and strokes your back soothingly with its thumb. When you're a bit calmer, you give the Titan's finger a final squeeze, and disengage.

"Shrimp," says the Titan, poking you and making you wheeze and fold up like a cooked prawn again. Both of you laugh. "Phaeton, I love you," says the Titan, stroking your back again. "Whatever happens, never doubt that I love you."

"…I love you so much, boss."

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

"I hope so. A good night's sleep will probably fix me."

"Go and rest, my dear engineer. Sleep well," the Titan says, lowering its hands to the walkway so you can step off. You give one of its digits a parting hug, then you follow Sixty-Eight to the hangar entrance.

To your surprise and delight, Cygnus is waiting for you alongside Polycephaly. You spring forward to accept a hug from Cygnus, burying your face in their pea-coat and enjoying that comforting familiar scent. Everything's going to be alright…