I'm made of metal, my circuits gleam

"Actually, you know what's funny?" you remark to Cygnus and Polycephaly, from your position as just a disembodied TV head mounted on one of Polycephaly's stems. "I named myself Phaeton just to go samesies with Cygnus-" (You'd named the pair of you after the Cygnus and Phaeton from mythology) "-but it literally means 'one who shines'. I guess I really do now."

Polycephaly curls their stem inwards so they can give your new head a friendly pat. "That you do." Polycephaly turns their attention to the TV medics, who are still looking in confusion between your hardware head and your recently-deceased human body. "If I bring Phaeton's head to the repair bays, can you install it on a body?"

After a few seconds, one of the medics gets themself together enough to answer in the affirmative. Meanwhile, Polycephaly picks up Cygnus, saying: "I need a counterweight." Polycephaly sits Cygnus on their shoulder, on the same side as their stem that's currently carrying your head instead of one of Polycephaly's own sub-screens. Polycephaly brings their stem in so Cygnus can pet you, much to your delight.

One of the medics looks up at you. "What should we do with… your human remains?"

You think for a moment. "Keep the head for now. I'd like to have my skull as a keepsake." Because how fucking metal would that be?! "I've always thought we humans had jovial-looking skulls. As for the rest, I'd like it to be eventually be destroyed somehow so the Skibidis can't ever use it. Any scientists who want to dissect it for fun and/or learning are welcome to do so. When you're done with it, I guess either incinerate it, or chop it up and I'll add it to the compost heaps in the hydroponic farm." Wait… you're not going to need the hydroponic farm any more, are you? Maybe you'll keep it going for now, in case any more human survivors turn up. If nothing else, you should find a way to shut it down gracefully so it won't descend into rot.

"Let's get you to the medical bay so we can get some limbs on you," says Polycephaly, striding off with you and Cygnus, as various medics hurry to keep up with them.

"You're… taking this remarkably in stride," points out Cygnus.

"Shit happens," you say. "That's what we say, isn't it?"

"Hell yeah, you get it," says Polycephaly.

"Can you see out of my head?" you ask Polycephaly.

"I actually can, if I choose to," says Polycephaly. "But it's a different resolution and aspect ratio from my other ones, so the effect is too jarring. I turned off the incoming stream instead-"

"Oh," you quietly exclaim, interrupting Polycephaly without meaning to.

"Is something wrong?" asks Cygnus, stroking the top of your head.

"I think my brain's just realised it has more frequencies of light to play with," you reply. Your vision hadn't changed until now, because human vision is essentially a rendering of what the brain expects to see. Your new crystalline brain is just catching up to its new reality. "I can see much better in this Base than I used to be able to… but going from two eyes to one screen means my depth perception has gone to shit. This will take some getting used to. Oh- please try transmitting something to me; I'll see if I can understand it."

You're aware of some sort of… data-burst, you suppose. "I don't know what that was. Polycephaly, I'm guessing that was you saying 'pissflaps' or something."

"You wound me," replies Polycephaly with mock-hurt.

"That was me," says Cygnus. "I was sending you an equation. If you'd replied with the answer, we'd know you received it." Cygnus pets your head. "You've only properly been a TV for a few minutes, and you never got any training in the creches. Don't worry that you haven't worked everything out yet. I'll help you through it all."

"Cygnus, buddy, you're a fucking gem," you reply.

"We're here," points out Polycephaly. They kneel and wait for Cygnus to disembark. Cygnus steers your head onto a cart brought out by a quick-thinking medic, and confirms to Polycephaly that they've got your head safely in place. Polycephaly disengages the stem carrying you. "Fuckety-bye, little budgie," says Polycephaly, giving your head a final pat. "I have to be on my way now. You're in good hands here."

"Thank you, Polycephaly. Ah'll sithee."

"Ah'll sithee, Phaeton." Polycephaly teleports away somewhere. (Probably to retrieve their sub-screen that they left in the Titan's hangar, you think.)

The medics wheel your cart into the repair-bay, Cygnus in tow. "Do we still have that frame?" you hear one of the medics ask another, to which the latter replies in the affirmative. Is this 'frame' going to be your new body? The answer is apparently yes - you see the medics bring something out of storage, which turns out to be an inelegant and basic-looking techfolk body, in an unfashionable and ill-fitting suit.

"What emoticon was that meant to be?" Cygnus asks you. Your screen must have displayed something illegible.

"…Disappointment," you venture. You were thinking something much harsher, but you don't want to antagonise the medics who will be responsible for fitting your new body.

"Do not worry," says one of the medics, "This will be only a temporary body. You'll get to have a much nicer one eventually."

Thank fuck - it looks like an undercover cop from 40 years ago. "That's good to know; I'm pleased to hear that," you reply. "I'm surprised, though. I assumed you were going to put me on one of the empty shells in storage in the creche."

"Those aren't much better than this one," says the medic. "It's been so long since we've brought any new TVs into existence, that those standby shells are getting quite out of date now. And this one we're putting you on now is designed to be temporary, so it'll be much quicker to fit your head to it."

"We probably could stand to update the outfit, though," points out another medic.

Some of the medics power up the frame that will soon be your temporary body, and cycle it through various processes, which you assume are to check that it's working. Some more medics move your head from the cart onto a repair bench, and begin connecting cables to your head in preparation for what will come next.

"Argh," you exclaim in surprise. "That feels strange." Someone pushing cables into sockets in your head isn't a sensation for which you have any precedent. Then: "Oh, that feels nice," you say. "I can feel the capacitors in my head re-charging."

As the medics continue to prep your temporary body, Cygnus moves in to stroke your head. "It's really you," Cygnus says softly.

"As if I could die that easily," you joke.

Cygnus laughs slightly. "We searched for you for so long. And then it looked as though you might never recover." (In a way, you didn't. Your mind latched onto a new home rather than remain in the body in which it could no longer survive.) Cygnus continues to stroke your head, but is now trembling from stress, in that way that happens when the stressor is suddenly gone and everyone is free to collapse and cry in safety.

"Oh, Cygnus," you say. "As soon as I have arms again, I'm giving you a hug. …Look, I shan't be offended if you need to duck out for a bit. I'm safe now. And I don't think you left my side the whole time I was incapacitated. If you need maintenance or to recharge or check your work emails or anything, go do it. I'll still be here afterwards."

Cygnus doesn't appear to know what to do with themself. One of the medics takes charge of the situation and orders them to sit on a chair out of the way. Good idea. More medics move in, having finished the tests on the frame that is about to be fitted to you, and lie the frame on the same repair-bench on which your head is sitting. Bizarre sensations drift into place as the medics connect the frame to your head, and your brain finds itself with new appendages to add to its proprioceptive map. The phantom limb sensations echoing from your old human body intertwine and merge with your new ones as your brain tries to make sense of what it finds.

You lie on the medical bench, finally with a body, and Cygnus moves in to hold your hand, slotting themself between two medics. "Phaeton, can you feel this?" asks Cygnus, stroking your hand.

"I can feel a whole bunch of stuff, but none of it makes sense yet," you reply.

"Take it slowly," Cygnus says softly, clasping your hand in theirs. A couple of nearby medics nod approvingly at Cygnus's words.

"Can you bend my fingers for me?" you ask Cygnus. "It might help if my brain gets a demonstration of what that's supposed to feel like. Hold my hand up where I can see it, please."

Cygnus does so. "Should I keep doing this?" they ask.

"Please do," you reply. You watch the movement of your fingers and pay attention to the physical sensations your new body is reporting, seeking to link them together, and mesh together your new body-map with the memories of your old human one. Eventually you perceive the movement of your individual digits, and ask Cygnus to release your hand for now. You make a fist, clenching and unclenching, until you feel able to try making a thumbs-up. You get it right on the first try. "Hey, Cygnus," you begin, "I'm going to try making a rude gesture. It's not directed at you or at anyone else here; I'm just trying out the movement." You open your fist into a 'wanker' gesture, then re-clench your fist and flick the v-sign then flip the bird. "Bwoo ha ha!" you exclaim.

"Polycephaly would be proud," says Cygnus, displaying an amused emoticon. A few of the medics laugh quietly.

Some of the medics bring you various objects to try manipulating. You make a few false starts, but you pick it up quickly, paying attention to the feedback your new hands are giving you about texture and pressure. "Could you bring me an opaque container of liquid?" you ask.

"…What… kind of liquid?" asks a medic.

"Anything, as long as the container is opaque. Water or something," you reply. "Something that always fascinated me as a human was how we - as in humans - can pick up an opaque container of liquid and estimate how much liquid is inside it by how its centre of gravity shifts. The textbook example of organic brains performing calculations without realising it is usually catching a thrown object, but I think the container of liquid is impressive too. There's some complicated maths going on there. I want to feel what that's like with my current brain." One of the medics finds a suitable vessel and gives it to you. "This is helpful," you say. "This is giving me a better grasp of how I exist in 3D space." Eventually you feel able to try sitting yourself up without any assistance.

"Your progress is impressive," says one of the medics as you rise to a seated position and experimentally turn your head a bit. "Hardware cadets normally take months of simulated training before they can be loaded into physical bodies."

"I have effectively had a form of that," you point out, "It was just in a meat shell instead of in a creche server." As you talk, you poke at the slots on your wrists where your concealed blades are hidden, trying to find the link between your brain and the blade release mechanism. You think you've got it, and try protracting your blades. "What the shit?" you ask at the sight of them. They're just unsharpened rounded paddles, like pallet knives. "How am I supposed to fuck shit up with these?"

"You have only a temporary body, don't forget," says one of the medics. "It would be unfortunate if you injured yourself while learning to move." You have to concede that this is eminently sensible.

You retract your pathetic-looking 'butter knives'. …You protract them again. "Blade goes out," you say. "Blade goes in. Blade goes out. Blade goes in. Ehehehe." That was fun. "I'm going to try getting up and walking now," you say. When none of the medics object, you work on swinging your legs over the edge of the medi-bench, and prepare to transfer your weight from your bum to your feet. Cygnus stands at the ready to offer you an arm to lean on, and you accept.

"Phaeton, if you comprehend this message, reply with your serial." You ponder the transmission that just arrived in your mind. You check its metadata and realise it came from Cygnus.

As you walk, you think about how you're supposed to reply. You think you've got it, and transmit back: "I am Eighteen-Forty-Two." Cygnus transmits back with a heart emoticon, delighted that you can receive and send. You look up and see they're displaying the same emoticon on their screen too. That's something you still haven't worked out how to do.

"The way you walk is interesting," says Cygnus verbally.

"Am I doing it wrong?" you ask.

"Not at all! It's just… clearly organic, somehow. You didn't learn that in any cadet creche."

Something suddenly occurs to you. "Oh! There's something I simply must do," you say. You check you can stabilise yourself without leaning on Cygnus, then confidently stride over to a corner of the room. You push aside a wheeled cart of equipment so you can stand right in the corner - then you bow forward, and push the corner of your head right into the edge where the walls meet. It's a perfect fit. "Aww yeah," you say.

"…Phaeton, are you alright?" asks Cygnus.

You give a thumbs-up. "Yeah, just wanted to see if it would fit." You slide your head up and down in the corner a bit. It's a good stim! Just as you're contemplating whether you can get away with standing on a desk and trying to push your head into a ceiling corner, your attention is diverted by sounds that you recognise as the re-appearance of Polycephaly.

Two medics rush to open the double-doors so Polycephaly can more easily crawl in. Polycephaly appears to be searching for something - you realise they're picking up your yes-I-live signal. "There you are, Phaeton," says Polycephaly. "Have you already been fitted with your new blades?"

"Not yet," you say, walking over to Polycephaly while protracting your pathetic paddles and holding up your arm to show them. "This whole body is temporary - I'm going to get cuter than this." You retract the blades.

"Thank fuck. You look as though you fucked a skibidi and then you both got dressed in the dark. I have something for you, if you'll accept it." Polycephaly withdraws a slim box from their jacket. "Do you remember seeing these on the wall in my quarters?" They ask, handing you the box.

You open it. "It's your previous set of blades, isn't it?" you ask. It's the last physical remnant of Polycephaly's pre-upgrade shell. "…You'd really let me have these for myself?"

"Why not? They're not actually doing any good mounted on my wall. Might as well put them to their intended use of fucking shit up."

"I… I'm really happy about this. Sincerely. Oh, Polycephaly, thank you so much! I'm glad to have these!" You carefully replace the blades in the box and set the box down, before all but jumping into Polycephaly's arms for a hug. They are really nice blades - Polycephaly was an elite agent even before being upgraded to their current size. You gratefully press yourself into Polycephaly as they lift you up. (You notice Cygnus opening the box to have a look.)

"I'm sorry you won't get to do fun human stuff any more," says Polycephaly, "But I hope you will enjoy being a TV."

"I shall miss farting," you say. "I can play the sound of a fart on my speakers, but squelching a wet bubbly rasper out of one's ringpiece is one of human life's little pleasures… But I look forward to discovering a new world of other little pleasures that I couldn't have before."

"When you feel up to it and we both have time, I'd like to show you how to properly navigate the void-pathways."

Cygnus privately transmits an addition to that: "I'll help you with it too. No-one knows more about teleportation than Polycephaly, of course… but I don't know if they will be the best teacher." You ping back to acknowledge that you received and understood the message but you have nothing to add at this time. This is a feature of techfolk communication you already appreciate! Having a word like that would have been so useful for communication in your human life.

"Thank you," you reply verbally to Polycephaly. "I'm sure I'd like that."

Polycephaly gives you a gentle squeeze. Your new metal body could endure a lot more than that, but Polycephaly is likely conscious of its temporary nature and unsure of its durability - or they're just used to holding you in your previous organic form. "I have to be off again," says Polycephaly. "You've still got me in your communicator, haven't you?"

"That I have," you say.

"Good. Keep me updated." Polycephaly sets you down again.

"Ah'll sithee, Polycephaly."

Polycephaly flicks you a salute and then teleports away.

"I'm being called away myself," says Cygnus, looking at their communicator. "I'll take that hug now, if I may."

"Of course! Dear one," you say, delightedly embracing Cygnus and enjoying the feeling of Cygnus stroking your back that your new body is reporting. You gently press the side of your head to the side of Cygnus's, noticing the electricity and transmissions you can sense that you couldn't before.

"When you get your new body," says Cygnus, "You'll need something nice to wear. I'll get Zero-Four to sort you out." Zero-Four is one of the faction's lead tailors, and is one of Cygnus's exes, with whom they're still close friends. You're rather fond of them yourself.

"Thank you," you say, ending the hug with a final squeeze. "Please get some rest when you can, and I'll see you later."

Cygnus takes their leave. You're pleased by how much more relaxed they seem now. Seeing you with a body again and walking around seems to have really perked Cygnus up.

"There's the matter of building your new permanent body," says one of the medics to you - their yes-I-live signal marks them as the lead of this group. "Would you like a slightly smaller shell, to match the height of your human body?"

"Absolutely not, I like my new height increase!" you say. "…Could I be… big, like Polycephaly?"

"No, that won't be possible. That would require putting you through the same upgrade process that Polycephaly had. We've no idea what effect that might have on a formerly human psyche." That's a point. If the process harmed you, you think Cygnus would never forgive the medics. "In addition, we have no shell parts that size that aren't reserved as backups for Polycephaly."

"I suppose that means I can't be big like one of the large Cams? They're upgraded from standard units too, aren't they?"

"Indeed. In addition, we have no components that size; it's not a standard size for TVs. …Clearly, you enjoy your new height. I can weld together some components and build you a frame slightly taller than a standard TV, as large as we can sensibly go without needing to invoke the upgrade process. Would you like that?"

"I so totally fucking would!"

"…Was that meant to be a happy emoticon?"

"It was. Was it not?"

"It was some slashes and brackets. I thought you might have been trying to display some perl code."

"No, was meant to be happy face. I still haven't worked out how to render stuff properly."

"Phaeton!" exclaims a new voice. Fornax - the TV known to most as Zero-Four - arrives in the repair bay. "Can it really be?"

"It can!" you reply, holding your arms out for a hug.

"Niner told me what became of you," says Fornax, accepting your hug. (They refer to Cygnus as 'Niner', after the sum of Cygnus's serial digits.) "I'm… struggling to comprehend, I admit."

"You're not the only one!" says one of the medics.

Fornax breaks away from you. "But I was informed that you'll need an outfit, and that's something I absolutely understand." Fornax pretends to be appalled by what you're currently wearing, to your mutual amusement. "I have some good news for you," continues Fornax. "When my team and I altered the Titan's outfit to fit its upgrades, we ended up with a lot of the old material left over. It's still in storage, because I've yet to find a good project for it." You like where this is going… "I can create you an outfit out of the material from the Titan's old one. Would you like that?"

"Do you want the long answer or the short one?" you ask.

"…Short?" says Fornax.

"YES!"

"What's the long answer?"

"Ye-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-ess!" Both of you laugh, then you continue: "Sincerely, that's a wonderful offer. I would like that very much indeed. Thank you."

"…What are you displaying on your screen?" asks Fornax. "Is it meant to be an ASCII bunch of bananas?"

"It was meant to be a smiley face." Dang, why is this so difficult?

Fornax takes out their tablet to show you various outfit designs, and you go through them together. Fornax makes notes on what styles you like best, and uses the information to put together a composite design with sketch lines and annotations overlaid. They clip their tablet stylus back home, then pass you the tablet to have a look. "What do you think of that?" asks Fornax. "If you like it, I can have my team start on it once the medics confirm the measurements for your new body."

"Oh Fornax, it's perfect," you say, gazing at the design with yearning. "You'd really do this for me?"

"I've been wanting to do something nice with this material," says Fornax, accepting the tablet back from you. "And it's not often that we get a new addition to the faction. And… you've been through a lot."

"We all have," you point out. "We're at war." And there's no end in sight yet.

"Not many of us have lived through the extinction of our own species," Fornax says softly, placing a hand on your shoulder gently. "Phaeton, you were… no, I shan't say it and make you relive it." Fornax pulls you into a proper hug. "Phaeton, after all that, no-one could deny you a little treat. Let me give you a nice outfit. It's what I do best." You squeeze Fornax gratefully.

Fornax speaks to the medics about what information they'll need so they can prepare your outfit, then takes their leave. They give you one last fist-bump goodbye before departing.

"Do you have any immediate concerns about using your current body?" the lead medic asks you.

You realise you actually don't have any idea how to use your screen powers or your teleport (or how to render images on your screen), but that's entirely to do with your existing head and has nothing to do with your loaner body. You'll have to get Cygnus or maybe Polycephaly to help you with that later. "None at present," you say. "I can walk around and pick up things just fine. I could probably return to work now."

"That might be helpful," says the medic. "If you proceed with your normal routine as much as you can, that will help you adjust to your frame. You will be better adapted to your permanent shell once it is ready."

You say your goodbyes to the medics, promising to let them know if any problems arise, and remind them to install the blades that Polycephaly bequeathed you. The medics assure you that they won't forget, and that they will notify you once your new shell is ready for you. You head off to the Titan's hangar to see your colleagues in the engineering team - and your beloved Titan, of course. You send a message on your communicator to the team, letting them know that you've acquired a temporary body and you're on your way to see everyone. You send a quick message to Cygnus too, letting them know you'll be in the Titan hangar if they need you.

You walk along, reading and acknowledging all the excited replies you're getting to your messages. You've no idea how to teleport yet, so walking it is. Plus, you probably do need to prime your brain as much as possible on how to work this body. You end up chatting to the security guards outside the hangar for several minutes - word has got around TV Base about what happened to you, and they're relieved that you survived your ordeal. (You're quite glad they already know about what happened to you. You're not sure how else you'd be able to convince them that yes, this TV is the same individual they previously knew as a human.)

You enter the hangar. As soon as you set foot on the main walkways, you are immediately besieged with affection by any and all engineers who aren't elbow-deep in their work. You bask in the intersection of many delighted pinging signals, and enjoy receiving and returning pats to and from everyone in reach. (Further away, you notice a few Camera and Speaker engineers working alongside the TV engineers. That's new.)

The Titan drums its fingers impatiently on the walkway. "Titan privileges," it says. "Move aside, let me see Phaeton."

"I'm so happy to see you, boss," you say as you hug the Titan's fingers. "Won't you pick me up?"

The Titan does just that, cupping you in both hands and bringing you nearer its face. "Phaeton… My friend. Oh, my dear friend…" The Titan strokes you and ruffles you as if it's afraid you might disappear at any moment. "Phaeton, I am sorry. I'm not sorry you're still with us, of course. But it was at the expense of your humanity and that should have been your decision to make. I'm sorry I took that from you."

You had actually asked to be allowed to die, to end the agony of what the Skibidis had done to you. Cygnus and the Titan had refused to allow that. You hadn't thought there was any hope left for you. You're very glad now that your friends didn't give up on you.

If you'd known that would happen to you… would you have chosen to die as a human? You think that, had that question been posed to you as a hypothetical when you still were a human, you might have answered yes. You're glad that decision hadn't been left to your past self. You're alive- well, no, you're not. (It'll be hard to shake the habit of using phrasing like that.) You're here - and you're so very happy to be here.

You gratefully hug the Titan's hand. "But I'm so very glad you did, boss."

The Titan wraps its hands around you and raises you to its screen. "I'm sorry you were captured in the first place. …I did not protect you. You deserved better, my engineer."

You press yourself into the Titan's hands in a way that you hope conveys how you feel, then reach out to stroke the Titan's colossal screen. "I'm still here, thanks to you." The Titan softly rumbles its speakers, as if purring. You realise after a moment that you're doing it too. The Titan apparently comes to the same realisation, and strokes you with affection.

"Phaeton, do you receive?" a message transmits into your mind. You realise happily that you can understand it perfectly. From the metadata attached to it, you realise it came from Sixteen-Sixty-Eight, the chief engineer of the Titan's team.

"I confirm receipt," you transmit back.

"Please can you continue letting the Titan hold you?" comes the reply from Sixty-Eight. "Your presence is calming the Titan, and it's making it easier for us to perform maintenance."

"Who am I to decline such an order from the chief?" you transmit back. Engineer Sixty-Eight transmits their thanks, then signs off.

"I heard that," transmits the Titan into your mind. The metadata tells you that the transmission is encrypted, so only you can unencrypt it.

"Did I fuck up?" you transmit back, activating the encryption on your reply.

"Not at all," replies the Titan, still via encrypted transmission. The Titan moves its hands away from its screen and regards you as it strokes you some more. "I'm rather touched by what I overheard. But you should know a little more about how transmission works. You were correctly transmitting just to Sixty-Eight; you didn't broadcast your message. But unencrypted transmission can be intercepted. Treat it the same as talking audibly. Most people won't pay attention to your conversation with another, but they can always choose to direct their attention to it."

"That's good to know, boss. Thank you." You rub the side of your head against the Titan's hand, gently nuzzling with the corners of your casing.

"There's something very organic about the way you move," comments the Titan, back to conversing with audio. "The way you rub your head against me is just like how you did as a human. It's an unexpected sight coming from a TV-unit." The Titan gently strokes the top of your head with a fingertip, which would previously have made you squeak with pleasure. Instead your speakers involuntarily emit a happy fluttering noise. "Do you consider yourself human or tech?" the Titan asks curiously.

You think for a moment before replying. "I'm your engineer."

The Titan immediately clasps its hands around you delightedly, and brings you back up to its screen again. "Oh, Phaeton," the Titan says simply.

"Let me be your engineer forever, boss."

"I will. I wouldn't have it any other way." The Titan quivers with ecstasy, rustling its hooked back-spikes, as you reach out and rub its screen once more, paying attention to the groove where the curve of the screen meets the casing. So much for your assigned task of keeping the Titan calm, you suppose. "My engineer," says the Titan fondly. You melt.

"I'm sorry I won't be able to give you the super-fast core flush any more," you say, petting the Titan's screen. "I've lost my immunity to magnetism. It'll be back to the standard 48-hour process instead of the deluxe 3-hour treatment." The very first time you met the Titan had been to lend assistance to its team of engineers. Your nature as an organic meant that you could perform the core flush process uninterrupted instead of having to repeatedly step out and de-magnetise.

"I value you for a lot more than your potential ability to withstand magnetic fields, my friend." The Titan moves you away from its screen again, to better enjoy the sight of you relaxing in its hands as it continues to stroke and pet you. Getting a tech body hasn't diminished your insatiable desire for being cuddled and stroked by your beloved Titan. "Would you care to experience my core chamber?" asks the Titan after a while. "You might find that your new form lets you enjoy it in a different way from before."

"I'd like that, boss," you reply. Part of you would rather remain in the Titan's hands and enjoy being petted, but you are curious about what new sensory experiences you might have.

The Titan conveys you to its core chamber, where you step inside and are almost overwhelmed, but pleasantly so. In your human incarnation, when you spent time in the core chamber with Cygnus, you'd always thought that the purple light made Cygnus look so glorious, so complete, as though they were more themself than normal. You're finding out now that it wasn't just a look. You feel empowered being in here… the Titan's energies flowing all through the walls of the core chamber are making you feel as though you could punch your way through a brick wall, and simultaneously making you feel as though you're receiving a big mental hug. You realise you're purring your speakers again. You lie down and bask in the multiple layers of sensation, like a cat in a sunbeam. You listen to the comforting sounds of the Titan's inner workings, now with a new layer to them of electrical current, flowing gently as the blood through your former organic veins, and little automated packets of data flowing as soothingly as a little brook in a forest.

Someone else enters the core chamber. You can tell who it is without looking up - their yes-I-live signal marks them as Sixteen-Sixty-Eight, the Chief Engineer. They walk over to you and lie down next to you. "Phaeton… we're all so glad to have you back, my friend."

"I'm so happy to be back," you say. "There's a lot I'm going to have to get used to, and a lot I'm going to have to learn. My life's changed forever… but I get to have a rest of my life now." You hear the Titan buzzing its speakers softly at your words. "Can I… lie here for a bit longer, then go back to work? The medics say it'll help if I try to follow my normal routine, to get me used to how having a tech body works. Then that'll let me hit the ground running when I get my new permanent frame."

"Of course!" replies Sixty-Eight. "Phaeton, nobody expects you to work today - you were a corpse earlier this morning! But I won't stop you if you want to try. Rest here first, as long as you need to. …I am glad to hear that this isn't your permanent frame. It's not a look I expected you to pick out." You both laugh slightly.

"I noticed we have some colleagues from the other factions now," you say.

"They're from Antlia-Four," says Sixty-Eight. "Once they heard what happened to you, they loaned us some engineers to fill in for you, so that we could focus on you and each other without falling behind on the Titan's maintenance. They organised it all themselves, to take the pressure off Fifty-Twenty-Two." Sixty-Eight is referring to Cygnus, who would normally be responsible for organising cross-faction loans of staff.

"That's… incredibly touching. I'll have to thank them properly when I can." You switch from vocalising to transmitting privately with encryption. "How is the Titan?" The whole time your brain was rebuilding itself, the Titan was spending its energy on using its screen-hypnosis to take your pain away. In fact, it was that very thing that enabled your brain to do that in the first place, the Titan's command-beam ordering your brain to 'heal' and your neurons having no choice but to obey, in the only way they could.

"Physically, doing well," replies Sixty-Eight, reaching over and patting your hand. "I'm proud of how everyone pulled together to stay on top of maintenance and on constructing the prototypes for the next round of upgrades. Mentally… I know it's doing a lot better now that you're properly back." You return Sixty-Eight's hand-pat. The two of you continue lying side by side for a short while, letting the Titan's soundscape and pulses of energy wash over you. "I'm going to return to work," says Sixty-Eight, verbally this time. "Stay here or join me, as you choose."

"I'll come along and walk around a bit," you say as you both get up. You add, privately transmitting with encryption: "Maybe it will help the Titan's mood if it sees me like that." Sixty-Eight nods in approval. The pair of you approach the core chamber entrance, where the Titan brings its hand so it can ferry you to a walkway. (It occurs to you that Sixty-Eight could probably just teleport themself over there. Wait, potentially you could too. Maybe teleporting to or from inside the core chamber is difficult or impossible… Plus, getting a ride on the Titan's hand is just plain nice!)

You accompany Sixty-Eight for a time, before peeling off to talk to some of your colleagues, helping out where you can (and exchanging hugs). You make sure to greet the engineers from Antlia-Four too. ("Your presence is missed in the weapon workshop," one of them tells you.) It's the first time you've been able to communicate with a Camera or Speaker-unit so directly, transmission to transmission, without having to rely on sign language or writing things down. It's an exciting realisation; a horizon of possibilities has opened up to you.

You continue working, with genuine enjoyment. It's so good to be back. Eventually the Titan picks you up again, placing its hand in your path to intercept you and gratefully scooping you up once you voluntarily walk onto its palm. "Stay with me a little more, my engineer," says the Titan.

"Anything for you, boss," you say, stroking the Titan's hand and pressing yourself into it.

"Would you spend the night with me in my core chamber?" asks the Titan, stroking your back with the side of its thumb.

"I'd love that," you reply. Having an inorganic body means there's no longer any need for you to travel back to your home base to attend to your biological needs. You will need to recharge your body at some point, but the energy in the Titan's core chamber actually negates the need for that - it wirelessly charges any techfolk who sit inside it. Hell, you could probably live in there. You rest in your dear Titan's hands, enjoying its touch, as you both regard all the other engineers at work - all of whom seem to be working with renewed vigour and hope, after seeing that you're going to be alright.

When bedtime comes, the Titan begins its nightly ritual of allowing its engineers to pet its screen goodnight before activity in the hangar shuts down for the night. The Titan sets you down on the main walkway, then brings its face within reach. You rub the Titan's screen while all the other TV engineers walk over and join in the gesture.

(The Titan brings one of its hands in to hold the walkway railing. To your pleased surprise, the Camera and Speaker engineers get to walk over and stroke the Titan's hand goodnight. There probably aren't many from the other two factions who get to enjoy such close contact with the TV Titan. Petting the Titan's screen must be reserved for only its permanent crew of engineers - you feel so privileged that you get to join in with that.)

The Titan softly rumbles its speakers in enjoyment at the multitude of hands rubbing and caressing its screen. You get an idea, and slip a hand under the Titan's screen, rubbing under its 'chin'. You continue petting its screen with your other hand, enjoying the feel of the crackling static. The other engineers see what you're doing and copy you, rubbing the Titan's screen with one hand and rubbing under it with the other. The Titan's contented rumblings sound more blissed-out. "My dear engineers…" murmurs the Titan dreamily. It makes you melt. The Camera and Speaker engineers take this opportunity to leave quietly, waving goodbye to you and the other TV engineers as they depart.

Eventually the Titan is satiated with screen-petting, and brings its hands to the walkway to ferry you and other engineers to its core chamber, where you settle dreamily into a cuddle-pile. It's been quite a day.

---

"Phaeton, it's time," says Engineer Sixty-Eight softly, waking you up from sleep mode. (You notice how quick it is. There isn't a groggy 'who and where am I and why' transition between asleep and awake like you experienced as a human.) "The medical science team have a new body for you."

It occurs to you that there's nothing stopping you from going right now. If you were a human, you'd need to stop and have a piss and a drink and some breakfast before beginning your day proper, as well as clean your teeth and get dressed, maybe have a shower. You don't need any of that any more. Techfolk don't need to take off or change their clothes unless they pick up dirt. You don't exude sweat or oils or dead skin flakes any more. You think through what you'll need to do to prepare for your visit to the repair bay - and realise there's really nothing to do. You can just go.

You walk with Sixty-Eight to the core chamber entrance. Sixty Eight firmly pats the core chamber wall. "Titan, we require a lift." Moments later, the Titan's hand comes into view to ferry you and Sixty-Eight to one of the walkways. The Titan pets you while Sixty-Eight says to you: "You must come back and show us your new look when you can."

After getting intercepted by every engineer wanting to hug you before you leave, you set off to collect your new shell, assuring your colleagues that you can make your own way there just fine. You arrive at the repair bay, and are welcomed in by the medics.

You behold your permanent frame lying supine on a repair bench. It looks… superb. You admire its sleek black plating, purple trim and tessellating hexagons of gold circuitry that appear to be chasing each other over its surface. Plus, it's slightly taller than Cygnus, you reckon. "I love it," you say with utter sincerity. You would fuck this body. And you get to have it! You get to be it! "Oh, I look beautiful. You've outdone yourselves! …Oh, so did the tailoring team," you say as a medic brings over the outfit that Fornax's team created and sent over.

"Are you ready to begin now?" asks the lead medic.

"Yes!" you say. You really are. You try to display a delighted emoticon, but from the medics' reactions you don't think that was what actually rendered. You let the medics direct you to lie on a second repair bench, and they get to work removing your head from its temporary frame.

It's a surreal sensation, having your head re-detached, your body-map feeling as though it's stretching impossibly far away before confusedly falling away to nothing. You see the medics open up the torso of your new body so they can get to work connecting all wires and attachments, making your perception of your body slowly return. You experimentally move your hands and feet when directed to by the medics, ensuring that all connections are working correctly. You're surprised by how normal it feels. It really feels as though this body is yours. It doesn't feel exactly like your former human body, but it feels comforting, as though it really belongs to you. You think you'd cry small tears of happiness if you still had the physiology for that.

Finally, the medics have finished installing your head. One of them pulls something out of your body cavity - an inhibitor that was blocking your pain receptors, the techfolk equivalent of local anaesthetic. You involuntarily buzz your speakers in surprise at the unwelcome sensation of your body suddenly realising its panelling is unexpectedly open. The medics close your framework and replace the exo-plating overlaying it, much to your relief. It feels like the pleasant sensation you got in your human body when a joint suddenly clicked away a bothersome misalignment. "Am I done?" you ask.

"You are," confirms one of the medics. "How do you feel?"

"Fuckin' brilliant," you say, sitting up on the repair bench and then standing up. "I feel new, but like myself again." Some medics begin taking away your previous temporary body to return it to storage. You won't miss it. You accept your new outfit and put it on, looking around for a reflective surface to regard yourself in.

Oh. You look good. You hurriedly dig out your communicator and message Cygnus and Fornax to get over here so they can see your new look. (You update Polycephaly too, but they're preparing for a mission and aren't able to come see you.)

It's thankfully not long before Cygnus arrives. As Cygnus approaches you, you realise, to your immense satisfaction, that you're not just slightly taller than them… you're a full head taller. You loom over Cygnus in mock intimidation.

"…big…" Cygnus whispers appreciatively.

"May I pick you up?" you ask.

"I… I'd like that a lot!" Cygnus replies with a delighted emoticon. You notice them fidgeting their hands together in that way they do when they're flustered…

You're absolutely delighted by your immense mechanical strength! Cygnus is probably at least twice as heavy as you were when you had a human body, and you can lift them as easily as your human self could have picked up and held a cat. You squeeze Cygnus to you, buzzing your speakers as if purring.

Cygnus transmits to you privately: "Did you know I like… big units?"

You respond: "I actually didn't." You remember that Fornax is a little taller than Cygnus. Well, it would appear that Cygnus has a type… "Does that mean you find Polycephaly highly desirable? Not that I could remotely blame you." You heft Cygnus in your arms and cuddle them to you.

"Actually, no. Polycephaly is a bit too big for my tastes. Their size is… too abstract for me to find it attractive."

"What if I was about the size of a large Cam? Would that be too big for you?"

"…That would be wonderful. I think I'd have blown a fuse if I'd walked in and seen you like that."

"I actually did ask for that! But there were practical reasons why it wasn't possible." You nuzzle Cygnus, gently touching the top band of your head-casing to the side of Cygnus's, before setting them back down.

"Phaeton, you look so good," says Cygnus admiringly, back to verbal communication. "Not that you didn't look good as a human, of course. But you carry this new form so well."

"Damn straight. I made a cute human, and now I make a cute TV. I think I'm just relentlessly cute regardless of what form I take. If I had been turned into a skibidi, I would have made the cutest skibidi you ever did see."

"I'm glad we never had to test that hypothesis."

You hug Cygnus, gently resting the underside of your head-casing on the top of Cygnus's. Cygnus presses themself into you appreciatively.

Someone else arrives in the repair-bay - you realise from their yes-I-live signal that it's Fornax. "Phaeton, do not worry - we can make adjustm- oh. I see you won't be needing any." Fornax is taken aback by your new height. "I assumed the measurements were a mistake, and that we would need to take the garments in a bit more, but the medics were quite insistent that they were correct. I see I was wrong to have doubted them."

You give Cygnus a final squeeze to end the hug, then disengage from them so that Fornax can properly behold you in your new outfit. "Fornax, I love this," you say. "It's everything I was expecting and more. I feel so pretty!" The two of you step towards each other for a hug, Fornax displaying a happy emoticon. You privately transmit a suggestion to Fornax, and they immediately agree. The pair of you end your hug, then move in closer to Cygnus and gently trap and squeeze them between you - you in front of Cygnus and Fornax behind. Both of you tease Cygnus with your greater heights and your greater bulk.

"Oh, you're both awful!" protests Cygnus, trying and failing to wriggle out from between you, but their tone is affectionate. You and Fornax relent, and step away to release Cygnus.

"I take it you have no issues with your new shell?" the lead medic asks you.

"None at all!" you say. "I love this so much!"

With that, you are discharged. You pause to fist-bump all the medics in thanks, and leave the repair-bay with Cygnus and Fornax.

"What will you do next?" asks Cygnus.

"I want to visit my quarters in Antlia-Four Base," you say. "Would you both port me there? …I don't even know how to begin porting yet, and I'd feel a little safer if I had both of you with me." You're hoping it will help you learn if someone else just gives you a little push to start. Both Cygnus and Fornax immediately answer in the affirmative, and hold you before initiating the teleport.

You aren't sure what you're looking at. Previously, the void simply looked like swirling smoky blackness to you. Polycephaly had told you that TVs can see the void-pathways as silver lines, so you expect to see the same. The journey along the pathways is too quick for your brain to catch up to the sensory input you receive, though. You think you have the start of an understanding of how to enter the void, but you wouldn't know where to go from there or how to find the correct pathway.

The three of you spawn in your quarters in Antlia-Four. "I just want to spend some time in this little space that's mine," you say. "Would you both stay here with me for a while?"

"Anything for you," says Cygnus, squeezing your hand.

"I would be happy to join you," adds Fornax, displaying a smiling emoticon.

You first check your kitchenette for any foods that rotted in your absence. You toss them in a bag as you find them, and stick it in the freezer for now. You'll dispose of it all properly later.

That done, the three of you move onto your sofa, Cygnus and Fornax on either side of you, Fornax leaning against you companionably and holding your hand, and Cygnus pressing themself delightedly into you.

"How are you feeling?" Cygnus asks quietly after a while, reaching out to hold your other hand.

"…Surreal," you eventually settle on. "I've got no-one else to talk to who can tell me what to expect. I woke up yesterday as a human, died, then woke up today as a TV. But at the same time I feel energised and hopeful. My new form is so beautiful and I have so much I'm looking forward to learning."

"You've been through a lot," Cygnus says softly. "You don't have to keep putting on a brave front relentlessly. If you need to stop and have a proper breakdown or an identity crisis, no-one could deny you've earned it." (Fornax strokes your hand to show they agree with Cygnus's words.)

"Honestly, I keep expecting to," you say. "But I haven't felt the need to yet. I think… I've plain lost some of my old human emotions. Humans feel our emotions in the guts -- oh, there I go again saying 'our' when referring to humans. I probably will keep referring to myself as a human, or a mammal, or an organic, just out of force of habit. But the point I was getting at: emotions are brain-thoughts, yes, but they are felt in the guts. Anger, fear and love are physical sensations if you're a human. And now I don't have the necessary guts and glands to feel those. I think my brain hasn't worked out how to have a proper breakdown using its new body. And I'm hoping that by the time it works it out, I won't need one any more."

Cygnus strokes and rubs your hand in theirs. "Don't force yourself to talk about anything if you're not ready," says Cygnus. "But don't squash it down. We'll be here to listen when you need us."

"Please do tell us what you need," Fornax says, squeezing your hand.

"There's something I haven't had in a long time," you say. "Cygnus, I want your help with this. Sorry, Fornax, this will necessitate pushing you away a bit." You move Cygnus onto your lap - something you'd never have been able to do as a human - and reposition yourself so you're reclining lengthwise on the sofa with Cygnus on top of you. Fornax shuffles along to sit in the last remaining bit of sofa space. "There," you say. "I've missed this - letting a dear friend recline on you is one of life's great little pleasures. It's been so long since I've had anyone I could do this with." You stroke Cygnus's back. "I would have done this with you long ago, but you techfolk - we, I should say - are just too hefty for a squishy human."

Cygnus purrs their speakers in sheer delight at being your weighted blanket. You do want to include Fornax, though… You get an idea and transmit it privately to Cygnus. Cygnus looks up at you with a winking emoticon, then detaches their head. Fornax emits a static squawk of surprise as Cygnus's detached head flies up on its booster rockets and then lands in Fornax's lap. Their reaction makes you and Cygnus laugh - after a moment, Fornax joins in, and then gets to work petting Cygnus's antennae.

Meanwhile, you get to cuddle with Cygnus's headless body. This is surreal… but the hugs are still good. And pretty much no part of the last 48 hours has been normal, even by the standards of living in a post-apocalyptic world ravaged by evil toilets. Cygnus cuddles against you as you stroke their sides and enjoy their warm weight pressing down on you… pressing down on your charging port…

"My friends," you begin, "I have another request." Fornax turns their head to regard you. Cygnus emits a questioning buzz of static to show they're listening. "I desire to fuck."

"…Did you mean to include me in that request?" asks Fornax.

"Why not?" you reply. "You're cute, Cygnus likes you, I like you, you and Cygnus already know how the other likes to fuck. You've fucked in front of me before, I've masturbated in front of you before. Besides… a TV's charging port has space for two blades, doesn't it?" Cygnus rumbles their speakers with approval at your suggestion, squeezing their body against you in a hug. They disengage from you and sit up, simultaneously flying their head back onto their shoulders. You sit up and pet Cygnus's head (prompting another purr of static) as you address Fornax again: "Fornax, you would be most welcome to join me and Cygnus."

"…I would very much like to take you up on that," says Fornax.

On your way to the bedroom, you detour to the kitchenette and retrieve a teaspoon from a drawer.

"What's that for?" Fornax asks.

"I have a couple of ideas," you say, putting the spoon in your pocket. The three of you hang up your outer garments and remove your shoes before getting into your bed together.

Cygnus reaches a hand to your charging port, stopping just short of it. "May I?" asks Cygnus. You answer that question wordlessly, undoing your buttons and taking Cygnus's hand and guiding it into place. Cygnus massages your charging port, making you quietly buzz your speakers in appreciation. You cuddle both Cygnus and Fornax to you, pulling them in close. (Fornax seems delighted and flattered by this attention.) "What would you like?" Cygnus asks quietly.

"Spoon practice," you say, disengaging your arm from cuddling Cygnus and retrieving the spoon from your pocket. "I very much want to try out blade-fucking," you explain, "But I think the visual of a blade coming towards me will be alarming at first. I'm going to poke myself in the charging port with a spoon to get my brain used to the idea that my body has an opening there."

You get to work doing just that, pushing the handle of the spoon into your charging port and experimentally probing the connector points inside, teaching your brain that this is part of you. Meanwhile, Cygnus and Fornax cuddle you gently and give you encouraging pats. Eventually you decide you've sufficiently altered your self-image, and you draw your blades.

"Oh, those are something special!" exclaims Fornax.

"Aren't they, though?" you reply. "They were a present from Polycephaly." Your brain still doesn't quite want to let you to plunge a knife into yourself, so you switch off your screen - the TV equivalent of closing your eyes. You push your blade into place, pleased at how smoothly and nicely it clicks into place, and power your screen back on. Both Cygnus and Fornax purr ever-so-softly at the sight of you masturbating with your blade, as you start to enjoy the sensations of current zipping all over your frame, and you arch your back into it. You still have one blade free, and you're aching to push it home…

The location of a TV's charging port and their blades means that it's easy for a TV to push both their blades into someone else's charging port, but not both into their own. You want to push your free blade home, but your other hand is in the way… You withdraw it, and brandish both your blades. "Cygnus, Fornax… may I fuck you?"

Both TVs make delighted static sounds in response, trilling and purring, and pull back the covers on their own charging ports. "Please fuck me," you say with quiet yearning, as you push a blade into Cygnus and Fornax. They obey, and push a blade each into you, then move their free hands in to pet and massage your plating.

Both Cygnus and Fornax push their blades back and forth so gently, in recognition of the fact that this is your first time experiencing this. …It's far too gentle for you. "Harder, my friends, please… More, I need more." Fornax is much shyer but Cygnus is only too happy to obey. You push your own blades in and out of Cygnus and Fornax, paying attention to what makes them press themselves harder into your touch, and giving them more of the same.

"Please…" you say, "Fuck me the way you like to be fucked. I want to learn what I like best…"

You listen to the various sensations in your body, wondering how you will know if and when you're nearing orgasm… (Cygnus pushes a blade in rapidly, making you buck in surprise.) You think back to your sexual debut in your human life, and how all the advice you got revolved around making yourself 'relax'. (Cygnus pulls the blade out slo-o-wly, just the way they like it for themself.) You'd learned that that wasn't quite right - you needed to learn when to relax, yes, but also when to tense up and let your burgeoning orgasm get a 'grip'. (As Cygnus prepares to push their blade home again, Fornax darts their blade in to touch your connector points teasingly.) Forcing yourself to untense and relax when your body was trying to coil up and cum just flattened the orgasm away. (Fornax languidly drives their blade home just as Cygnus hurries theirs in.) You'd had to unlearn the vague advice and learn to understand what your body was telling you and what it wanted you to do about it.

You let yourself dissolve a little as the two pretty TVs fuck you and you fuck them, and arcs of electricity zip all over your plating and your frame, up and down your arms, tingling the base of your blades, and jolting from body to body. Are you getting close? You aren't sure… but you're not exactly in a hurry to bring this to a finish…

"Why don't you- oh… why don't you complete the circuit?" you ask, your voice distorted with arousal.

Cygnus and Fornax draw the blades on their free arms and push their blades into each other's charging ports. All three of you now have a blade in the other two, making the three of you into a loop around which your combined current can race over and over again.

You think you're getting close… you realise that your orgasm-sensation is an inversion of what you felt as a human. As a human, your orgasms felt like something building itself inside you, until it was too mighty to be contained and had to escape. It felt variously like electric juice saturating your muscles and making you feel tight and coiled, or like a spreading cloud of energy in your abdomen growing bigger and denser and trying to tunnel its way into your limbs. All of these sensations were of something internal making itself spread out until it found its exit.

Your new tech-orgasm is something building up on your outside, seeking to find its way in and flow into you. Your building orgasm manifests as a coruscation-feeling dancing over your exo-plating and trying to creep down the struts of your frame. Cygnus told you once that blade-fucking felt like an electrical feedback loop spreading all through their frame in waves, and you're discovering that that description was perfect. You buck and writhe with the pulses of sensation bursting over your frame, making your knives jolt and shudder in Cygnus's and Fornax's charging-ports and making them do the same to you.

Fornax cums first. (You guess watching their dear friend Cygnus fuck really got them excited!) "Ohh… sorry, Phaeton," they say, withdrawing their blades from you and Cygnus and moving away so your blades pull out of them. "Gotta, oh, pull out…"

"Don't you apologise," you say. "Thank you so much for indulging me. Ohh…" you say in response to Cygnus slipping their free blade into you. You move your own into them, and squirm to move Cygnus more on top of you, so you can enjoy their weight pressing down into your charging port. You writhe with delight at the intensity of the sensation. "Oh, Fornax," you say, "If you- oh! -feel up to it… would you… rub my crotch? I know I don't have any junk any more, but I'd like the visual of it…"

"I can do that for you, my friend," Fornax says, moving in. Cygnus re-arranges themself obligingly, and Fornax begins giving you a crotch-rub, massaging your plating there. "Is this what you wanted?" they ask.

Cygnus pushes a blade home, making you buck and preventing you from answering immediately. "Oh yes," you say, your speaker-cones fluttering. You're… actually surprised by how good that feels. You expected the touch would feel neutral, but your brain's body-map must still have enough expectation that this area is erogenous that it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Fornax's touch is only adding to the energy-waves zipping all over your plating and trying to bury themselves in your circuits.

"Cygnus…" you say, "Can I… try commanding you?"

Cygnus appears to almost collapse from excitement, before getting themself in line. "I'd love for you to try that," they say quietly, in that way Cygnus does when they're excited. The first time Cygnus had used their command-beam on you during sex, they'd told you afterwards that they wished they could experience the same from you… Now, finally, you have the power to make that happen.

"Fornax, please supervise," you say. "If it looks as though something's not right, break it apart."

"You've got it, my friends," Fornax assures you.

"Cygnus," you say, "Tell me explicitly."

"Phaeton, I want this," replies Cygnus. "Command me."

You let fly your purple rays, and Cygnus drops their defences to allow you in. You purr at the immense trust that Cygnus has in you. It's your first time experiencing screen-hypnosis as the initiator, and you take stock of what you can perceive from this side. Instead of feeling as though you're floating inside a mental void of purple, violet and magenta… you're viewing that same void from the outside, observing the manifestation of Cygnus's consciousness within.

You reach out mentally, cupping the nebulous Cygnus-mote in your 'hand'. It's not actually a hand, of course. But that'll do, as a metaphor. You decide to think of it as a hand, to avoid spending any more processing-cycles on it. You want to focus on Cygnus.

Cygnus's real-world screen is flooding with purple light, to match the display pouring from your own. Their real-world speakers hiss and crackle delightedly at the sensations you're making them feel.

You caress the Cygnus-mote in your manifested-hand, stroking and rubbing it and fondling it. You have the power to crush it and hurt it, to tear it and throw it and dash it against the walls of the void -- but Cygnus knows you never would. The hand metaphor breaks down a little as you manifest 'fingers' from all directions, in a way that wouldn't make sense on a three-dimensional hand. The Cygnus-mote mentally chirps delightedly as you stretch it and wrap it around your not-fingers and stroke it back in to shape, playfully batting it from not-hand to not-hand. Real-world Cygnus purrs and shudders with the sheer comfort and luxuriance.

You notice that Cygnus has stopped moving their blades in your charging-port, and doesn't seem to respond to your questing movements in theirs. You'd better break this up to check on them. You turn off your command-beam, and Cygnus immediately rolls off you and delightedly flops on their side, retracting their blades in the process (as you do the same with yours).

"Oh, Phaeton…" says Cygnus in quiet ecstasy. "I don't think I've ever been handled as sweetly as that." Evidently, your desire to make Cygnus feel good manifested as just making them happy and relaxed, instead of keeping them in the mood to fuck. Cygnus is cutely but uselessly flopped in complete peacefulness. (So much for trying out your other idea you had for the spoon.) You clearly have a lot to learn about the subtleties of the command-beam.

You're delighted by how you were able to arouse Fornax and pacify Cygnus, but you still want to cum! You get your own blade moving again and resume masturbation, the pretty TVs on either side of you making admiring static chirps at the sight. They move in to cuddle and pet you, while you pay attention once more to the electricity zapping all over your plating, flashing its way over the flat panels and teasing the seams, turning your focus to how you can intensify that feeling and let it happen…

You shudder out your first orgasm in this new form. You think you'd rather it had happened from the intensity of the three-way joining with Cygnus and Fornax, but first fucks rarely go as planned. You bask in your afterglow, as Cygnus and Fornax cuddle with you. "My dear friends," you say. "Thank you." Both of them softly buzz their speakers in response.

You're the first to finally break the peaceful silence. "I'd like to go back to TV Base," you say. "But first I want to stick my head around the door at the weapons workshop. I think my colleagues there would be hurt if they knew I was here in Antlia-Four and didn't say hello. …I'll need help porting back once I'm done. If you need to go back now, can I message you when I want to be picked up? Otherwise, you can wait in here or come with."

"I'll come with, if I may," says Fornax, as the three of you get up. "I haven't seen the weapon workshop here."

"I'll join you," says Cygnus.

"You sure?" you say as the three of you re-don coats and shoes. "Don't let your work suffer on my account."

Cygnus and Fornax are sure, and they accompany you to the weapon workshop. You discover that your workstation has been left as a shrine of sorts - your personal tools left on display, and various trinkets artfully arranged around them. It stops you in your tracks. You're deeply touched. You realise that you'd assumed that your workstation would be repurposed in the name of efficiency, and your tools redistributed. Your colleagues clearly couldn't bring themselves to do that.

Your arrival causes consternation - everyone would have heard some version of what happened to you, but it seems most of them didn't believe it. But in front of them is undeniably a TV with a yes-I-live signal with a serial matching Phaeton's - yours.

"Argh, too many transmissions!" you say verbally. "I still have only the one brain!" You try to intercept and answer the barrage of questions that are coming at you via transmission and via frantic Cam-sign. "I am Phaeton," you say, "In that I kept my human memories and continuation of consciousness. You can argue the philosophy of whether I'm really the same individual, but I reckon I'm near as dammit the same as makes no difference."

"Yes, I'm a TV now. No, I don't really understand how. I don't think anyone does. Yes, the height increase is friggin' great. -

"Yes, I intend to return to work here - I'm good at it and I want to go where I'm needed. Yes, my outfit is gorgeous. -

"I can potentially teleport, but I haven't learned how yet. I have no plans to train as a field agent, but it's not outside the realms of possibility. -

"No, I don't know if I'll still live here or if I'll move to TV Base. -

"Yes, you absolutely can have a hug."

The dam breaks. You are beset by a surge of delighted techfolk, all happily transmitting 'Phaeton, Phaeton'. "You really missed me this much?" you ask, trading hugs and back-pats and accepting Camera visors gently tapped to your own head-casing. (You wonder how much of this is because the other shop workers are glad to see you back, and how much of this is because they're excited to get a rare opportunity to hug a TV.)

Once everyone has had a turn at hugging you, you make a quick patrol of the workshop. Cygnus and Fornax follow you, taking a look at the various tools and half-built weaponry. "That's an A211-8C, not an A211-8D," you say, pointing at a component.

The Camera working at it signs "Hello, Sun Driver," (addressing you by your Cam-sign name) then further replies by transmission: "Good spot, but this rifle is the Mk-VIII model."

"In that case, you'll need the A211-7D, unless you want the thing to fall apart when fired," you reply. The Camera nods in thanks, and you continue your patrol.

"How long has that cleaning solvent been sitting there congealing?" you ask another colleague, pointing to part of the weapon they're disassembling. "Best clean that off before it sits there too long and strips the reflectors." You walk on.

"Whoa, do not lever off that detent spring," you say to another colleague in the middle of disassembly. "Pull it straight off or it'll either get out of shape or ping away somewhere you'll never find it."

"No wonder they missed you here," says Fornax. "You clearly know what you're doing."

"To be honest," you broadcast privately to Fornax and Cygnus, so your workshop colleagues don't overhear, "Antlia-Four's a Bumfuck Nowhere base, and it shows. I know there's a Titan hangar, but to my knowledge the Camera Titan's never come by to use it. My skills compared to the workers in the main Camera Base are probably just average."

You finish your patrol and say goodbye to the supervisor on duty. "I have to head back and do TV things now," you say. "But Phaeton is back, and I will return."

You, Cygnus and Fornax return to TV Base via the void-pathways. "I want to head to the Titan's hangar and let everyone see my new look," you say to Cygnus and Fornax. "Are you coming with?"

"I have a meeting with the Imperator in the next couple of hours," says Cygnus. "I want to take some time to prepare and catch up with at least some of what I've missed."

"And I have my own workshop full of insubordinate wastrels to manage," says Fornax. "I will take my leave also."

The three of you hug goodbye and make your ways to your respective workplaces. You head off to the Titan's hangar, keen for the Titan and your engineer colleagues to see your improved appearance.

"Oh, Phaeton, you're going to cause a sensation!" says one of the hangar security guards at the sight of you. Both of them reach over their counter to fist-bump you, displaying beaming emoticons. (You'd display one too but you still haven't worked out how.)

You enter the hangar and walk in the direction of the Titan, thoroughly enjoying all the double-takes and shocked emoticons provoked by your new appearance.

"Well, look at you, Phaeton," says the Titan admiringly, offering you a hand to step onto. "You've gone from being my littlest engineer to my biggest." The Titan brings you closer to its face. "I recognise Forty-Three-Zero-Four's handiwork. Oh, Phaeton, you'll make me jealous. How I want a me-sized copy of that outfit." The Titan strokes your head and back, making your screen happily dissolve into horizontal bands of static sliding up and down. "You're not such a soft little thing any more," comments the Titan, gently scratching your back with its fingertips. "Are you enjoying your new form?"

"I really am!" you say. "I shall remember my human form fondly. It was soft and cute and it served me well. But now I'm really excited to learn everything I can do. I still don't know how porting is supposed to work. I hope it's possible for me to learn, and I haven't missed a window of development for it."

The Titan strokes your head with a fingertip. "I have every confidence in you, my engineer."

Engineer Forty-Two-Twelve, the deputy superintendent, teleports next to you in the Titan's hand. "Phaeton, you are about to be summoned by the Imperator." Your communicator pings. That wasn't much of a warning.

"Will you come back afterwards?" asks the Titan as you dig out your communicator out of your pocket.

"I absolutely will, boss," you say, "I've missed being here." (Truth be told, you've barely left here - after you were rescued, you spent all your recovery in the Titan's hangar, where the Titan could use its command-beam to relieve your pain. The Titan surely knows what you mean, though.)

To your surprise, the message really is from the Imperator themself and not their staff. You reply to confirm you will arrive shortly. The Imperator's message did say to not delay unnecessarily, but also that there was no hurry. You therefore take the time to properly hug all your colleagues before setting off - the Imperator would surely agree that hugs for morale count as a necessary use of your time. The Titan gives you one last head-pat goodbye just before you walk out of its reach, on your way out of the hangar to the Imperator's office.

You arrive, to one of the Imperator's guards opening the door for you. You nod to them in greeting. The guard (Fifteen-Sixty-Six) nods and gives you a smiling emoticon. You transmit: "I'd return the gesture but I haven't worked out how to display emoticons yet. Consider yourself smiled at."

"My dear Phaeton," says the Imperator, walking towards you while adjusting the dials on their head to modulate their voice to your human hearing-- It dawns on the Imperator. "Oh, force of habit," they say. "You can hear my true voice now, can't you?" The Imperator spins the dials back to their normal position. "Do you hear me, Phaeton?"

"…I do, my Imperator," you say. "Your true voice is lovely to hear!"

The Imperator displays a beaming emoticon and holds out their arms for a hug - you happily step forward to accept. "Who gave you permission to be taller than me?" jokes the Imperator. They squeeze you a little more. "That's to say I like you and I like working with you." This is the point at which the Imperator normally lets go. This time, they keep holding onto you. "Oh, Phaeton… my dear auxiliary. How we all worried." The Imperator strokes your back. "I can't imagine what you've been through… How do you feel?" It's not a casual question.

"Rested. Energised. Hopeful. I feel as though I've effectively already died, so today is a a gift. …I do feel a little sad about some things I'll never be able to experience again as a human. If I'd known it was going to happen, I could have prepared for it, deliberately done some things for the last time and seen them off properly." (The Imperator gives you another squeeze in sympathy.) "But in some ways I feel relieved. I've lost a lot, but I've gained a lot. I'll never again have to worry about the possibility of being turned into a skibidi. I don't have to work so hard to get energy - I won't need to hunt or forage or farm any more. I don't know yet what I'm going to do with all those saved hours, but I want to find out. …May I hug your guards?"

"Of course," says the Imperator, giving you a final squeeze before disengaging their hug. They address the guards: "At ease."

The two guards immediately stride forward from their positions, their demeanour changing in a flash from stoical and imposing to affectionate, as they close in on you and embrace you. Both of them make happy static noises as you return their hugs. "Fifty-Three, Sixty-Six, it's good to see you both again."

When you and the guards have had your fill of hugs and greetings, the Imperator motions for you to sit down. You do so, and the two guards return to their positions, both giving you one last smiling emoticon.

"Imperator," you ask, "What happens to my auxiliary status?" Your status as an auxiliary was granted to indicate that while you were not a TV, the faction recognised the work you did for them. What are the implications now that you are a TV?

"That is part of what I wanted to discuss with you," says the Imperator. "What do you want to happen? Faction Imperator I may be, but I think that no-one has more right to decide than you."

You consider your options. On the Alliance databases, you are the sole member of the 'human' faction, and an auxiliary to the TV faction. You could ask to have your faction status changed to be a full member of the TV faction.

"I would like to leave it as it is," you say. "One could argue that I am a TV now and should have my faction reclassified accordingly, but I have spent the vast majority of my life as a human. I will probably always think of myself as at least partially human, and it feels disingenuous to claim otherwise."

"I acknowledge your choice, if that is your decision," says the Imperator. "But if your choice is influenced by concern that the faction won't accept you, know that you have the backing of the Imperator. If you wanted to join this faction, anyone who objected would have me to answer to."

"Thank you, my Imperator," you say. "I appreciate your words greatly. But I will stand by my original decision."

"As is your right, my auxiliary." The Imperator displays a happy emoticon to show they respect your choice. "For what it's worth, I think you made the best choice. I would gladly reclassify you if you wanted, but you were a very good human. It's understandable that you would want to keep that part of your identity. Now… if you have business to attend to elsewhere, I won't keep you. But I would like to spend some time with you socially, in my quarters. Is that compatible with your plans for today?"

"I'd love that, Imperator."

You follow the Imperator to the door that leads from their office to their private quarters, with the two guards bringing up the rear. The Imperator hangs up their quilted pea coat (under which they're wearing their signature purple turtleneck, as well as a black cravat and a black under-bust waistcoat), then takes a seat on their sofa and gestures for you to join them - you gladly do so. You even-more-gladly accept their offered hug, the two of you pulling each other into a cuddle. You transmit privately to the Imperator: "Imperator, could the guards join us?"

"Of course," the Imperator transmits back to you, then verbally to the guards: "At ease - do join us."

The guards Fifteen-Sixty-Six and Eleven-Fifty-Three are only too happy to obey, and move to sit either side of you and the Imperator. "Hello, cuties," you say. To your delight, both guards lean in, forming a cuddle-pile with you and the Imperator. "Oh, this is lovely," you say.

The Imperator rubs your back. "I tried to talk to you while you were incapacitated," they say. "I don't think you were aware."

"I think I wasn't," you say. "I have no memory of that. Imperator… thank you. Thank you for not giving up on me. I didn't think I would ever recover, and it would have been tactically sound for you to give the order to euthanise me and stop diverting the Titan's resources." In fact, you'd asked the Titan's engineering team to do that. You're still here because everyone refused to give up on you. "I would have borne you no grudge if you'd done that. Well - obviously I wouldn't, because I would be dead. But you know what I mean."

The Imperator holds you close. "The TV Faction looks after its own," they say quietly. They transmit privately to you: "TVs first, Alliance second. That is our philosophy."

You transmit back: "And you counted me as 'TV' rather than 'Alliance'? Even though I was- still am, sort of -a human? I'm… very touched that you held me in such esteem."

"We couldn't let you die, Phaeton," says the Imperator verbally, stroking you some more. "That would have made us far poorer allies to you than you've been to us." The two guards buzz their speakers quietly, to show they echo the Imperator's sentiment. You press yourself into the Imperator, trembling, moved by their kind words. "The Titan's engineering team needs you," transmits the Imperator privately to you. "It was partly because of your actions that our Titan was able to achieve its full potential. The Titan values you more than I think you realise." The Imperator gives you a squeeze, then resumes verbal communication: "Let me look at you, Phaeton."

You and the Imperator disengage a little, making the two guards shuffle backwards a bit to accommodate you. The Imperator cups a lower corner of your head-casing in their hand, making you flutter your speakers with a purring sound. "You make such a pretty TV," says the Imperator quietly. "I'd still be glad to call you my auxiliary if you'd become a Camera or a Speaker. But if you couldn't stay in human form, I'm very gratified that you became one of us." The Imperator rubs your casing corner, making your speakers flutter more and the white noise on your screen tremble rapidly. "Dear Phaeton. My auxiliary."

"My Imperator," you say softly.

"You know I'd rather stay here, but I must return to work," says the Imperator, pulling you into a cuddle again. "You can sit here and rest a while if you'd like. If you need to be somewhere else you can take your leave at any time."

"I'll take my leave now," you say. You don't need rest right now. Part of you wants to stay and poke around the Imperator's quarters a bit - your new vision lets you properly appreciate the decor. But the Imperator's quarters aren't going anywhere; you can look some other time. "I want to see our dear Titan again."

"Of course," says the Imperator, displaying a beaming emoticon. The two of you stand, and the Imperator dons their coat once more. "I'll port you there," the Imperator says as they pull you into a teleport-hug. (Only the Imperator could possibly open the void-pathway from their quarters directly into the Titan's hangar.)

You find yourself standing on one of the main walkways in the Titan's hangar, and the Imperator releases you from their hug. The Titan, presumably alerted by a transmission from the Imperator, turns to face you both (as far as the hangar machinery connected to them will allow).

"Imperator, it's nice to see you," says the Titan, displaying various happy emoticons on all its screens. "To what do I owe this visit?"

"I'm just dropping off Phaeton," says the Imperator. "But I've time for a hug. You have one for your Imperator, don't you, dear Titan?"

"Always," says the Titan, bringing its hand to the walkway for the Imperator to hug one of its fingers. What a lovely sight! You cast your mind around the hangar, noticing the snatches of various transmissions zipping through the air. You can tell the Imperator and the Titan are conversing, though the contents of their messages are closed off to you. Eventually the Imperator ends their hug, giving the Titan's hand a final pat goodbye before they depart in a cloud of black fog.

You pat the Titan's hand yourself. "How are you doing, boss?"

The Titan picks you up, to your immense gratification. "In need of the skills of my newest engineer. Dear Phaeton, I've missed having you as my engineer as well as my friend. Do you feel able to work?" The Titan strokes you with its thumbs as it talks.

"And how!" you say. "My workdays here are always the highlight of my week."

The Titan privately transmits to you: "We're very grateful to the Antlia-Four engineers for stepping up to help us, of course. But it usually takes three of them to match your typical output." The Titan is sparing their feelings by not saying that out loud.

"What can I say?" you transmit back. "Humans get shit done." You switch back to vocalising: "What do you need done the most?"

One of your colleagues waves to you from a nearby walkway. It's Seventy-Eight-Thirty-One, who specialises in maintaining the Titan's plasma lance. "I could do with your assistance here," they transmit to avoid having to shout to be heard.

"That's as good a place as any to start," you transmit back. "Boss, would you set me down? I still can't port."

The Titan does so, and you work alongside Thirty-One and catch up on various things you missed while you were incapacitated. It seems the Alliance has suffered a few setbacks in the war, but has made good progress too. It feels good to be in your usual routine doing what you're good at, and you marvel at your new strength and how much more your body is capable of.

As the end of the work day approaches, the Titan privately transmits to you: "Phaeton, I very much want to spend time with you this evening. Will you stay?"

You transmit back: "I very much want to take you up on that. If you're inviting me, I'm absolutely staying."

The time comes for the nightly close-down routine. The Titan addresses the Camera and Speaker engineers: "As always, your support today is appreciated. I would speak to my faction engineers alone now. If you have nothing to bring to my attention, you are dismissed for tonight." The guest engineers nod respectfully to the Titan, and take their leave.

"My engineers…" says the Titan to its permanent crew of engineers. "Tonight, I wish to be fucked. Will you indulge me?"

"Absolutely yes," you say immediately. Your heart would have skipped a beat if that was still part of your anatomy.

The Titan purrs its speakers in response, then continues: "I want as many of you as possible, my dear engineers." (A few engineers get out their communicators, presumably to reschedule events they had planned for after work.) The Titan begins ferrying its willing engineers into its core chamber. You move to step onto the Titan's hand to join the next batch - the Titan stops you politely, and addresses you: "Phaeton, I have something special in mind for you. Please stay where you are for now." Oh, you want to know where this is going.

Once all the other engineers are within the Titan's core chamber, the Titan picks you up, then takes a moment to recline against the hangar wall and settle comfortably. The Titan holds you in its hands and strokes you - part of you wants to stay here like this forever, and part of you wishes you were in the core chamber with the other engineers, stroking and rubbing the walls of the core chamber and making the Titan purr.

"My dear Phaeton," says the Titan. "I want you in my core chamber… but I want to give you some special attention first." You hug the Titan's hand fiercely in appreciation. The Titan wraps its hands more firmly around you and strokes you very deeply, pressing its fingertips against you. You involuntarily buzz your speakers in a static sigh of satisfaction. Now that you have a hardware body, the Titan is free to be a lot firmer with you, and it feels so good. The Titan moves you in its hands so it can place its thumbs on your chest, covering your charging port, and its fingers on your back. "If I press just so," begins the Titan, "It should make your plating click… which I am told feels very good. Would you like to try it?"

"Oh, I do, boss," you say. The Titan squ-e-e-e-e-zes, making your speakers flutter with anticipation as the Titan ramps up the pressure and the sensations spre-e-e-e-ead all over your plating and through the struts of your frame… click. Ohh. "Oh, boss…" you vocalise. "Good sensation no words right now," you manage to transmit.

"Would you like me to do it again?" asks the Titan, displaying a rakish emoticon.

You're vaguely aware that your screen is flooding with wildly dancing static. Your speakers hiss happily with white noise as your exo-plating gently flows and settles back into place on your frame, and your frame struts creak back home. "Oh boss… do it again, please."

The Titan squeezes and compresses you once more… Ohh… then, just as you expect to feel that wonderful click, the Titan decreases the pressure. You involuntarily make a static sound like a whine of disappointment. The Titan displays a wicked smiling emoticon, then begins squeezing you again. You chirp delightedly… until the pressure disappears again. Oh, the Titan is teasing you!

"Oh, please…" you say. "Oh boss, won't you?"

"Are you ready?" says the Titan.

You emit another static whine, and the Titan surprises you with another quick squeeze, not enough to pop your plating. You rally your thoughts enough to speak properly: "I really want this! Make it pop!"

"Three," says the Titan softly, adjusting its grip on you. It begins ramping up the pressure, rubbing your sides with its fingertips.

Your speakers flutter rapidly in anticipation.

"Two," says the Titan, pressing its thumb against your charging port.

You writhe.

"One," say the Titan.

Click.

Ohh, delicious, welcome new sensation. It's a little like how your human body felt after being properly exercised and stretched, but only in essence. You experience your new hardware body in a different way from your organic body, in ways for which you don't yet have words. Click. "Ohh, boss… oh, my Titan. Oh, I love this so much." Only the Titan's power could squeeze your frame hard enough to make your plating do that. The Titan loosens its grip on you and you lie happily on its palm, delighted by this new kind of pleasure that only your beloved Titan can give you.

The Titan gives you some gentle scritches with its fingertips, working the grooves in your plating. You purr once more and press yourself harder into the Titan's hand. The Titan pauses briefly, clamping its hand on you to hold you in place as the Titan bucks with pleasure in response to whatever the engineers are doing inside its core chamber. The Titan resumes stroking you, then speaks to you again, rippling its magnificent back-spikes: "I have blade-fucked every one of my engineers, except for you. Now that you have a body that can enjoy it, would you like to- Oh. I shall take that as a yes," finishes the Titan, in response to seeing you undo your garment buttons to expose your charging port.

"Oh, my dear Titan, yes. I really want you to."

The Titan gently pushes you onto your back, then brings in one of its sets of back-spikes, teasing you by hovering it tantalisingly close but not bringing it home just yet. Just as you resort to sitting up to try to grab the nearest spike and pull it towards you, the Titan immediately stops you by pinning you down with its thumb and making you lie back down. The Titan riles you up even further by rubbing its thumb and pressing down on you to bend your plating just a little… oh, is the Titan going to fuck you or just tease you?

"Oh come on, boss," you whine with yearning, "I don't do this to you!"

The Titan brings its spike home, pushing the tip precisely into your charging port.

Your vision briefly dissolves into white noise as your brain struggles to catch up with how much stimulation it's just received. The pressure from the huge blade is squeezing your plating and your frame so wonderfully, and the blade itself is delivering a flood of current into your charging port, energising and exciting you and making your cables feel massaged.

You draw your blades, touching them to the Titan's other two spikes and letting the current flow through you and out of you and back in again. The Titan pushes its spike into your charging port, devastatingly gently, making you buck and writhe upwards to meet it. The Titan gives you more of what you need by flexing its hand underneath you. Ohh.

"Boss," you say, your speakers fluttering and crackling, in the techfolk equivalent of breathlessness. "Can you- oh… can you click the plating on my crotch?"

"Anything for you, Phaeton, my dear engineer."

The Titan keeps pushing its spike into your charging port, exquisitely gently, palpating your charging port and making it tug at the surrounding frame struts. Meanwhile, the Titan pushes its fingertip onto your crotch - just the way it used to stroke you off in your human form. The Titan ramps up the pressure, making the plating of your null-crotch warp deliciously, the pressure spreading all through the frame of your pseudo-pelvis…

Click.

In exhiliration and joy, you scream a wordless static blast. Ohh! All you can do is writhe as the Titan continues squeezing you under its blade and its fingers.

"I think you're enjoying this," says the Titan. "Do you want a little more?"

"I want a lot more, boss!"

The Titan gives you more, pushing you out of that state where your mind can wander and into that final stretch of no thoughts, head empty, just pure sensation…

Click.

Your speakers and screen both dissolve into white noise. You shudder one last time, harder than ever, curling into the Titan's colossal spike, then you fall back, utterly spent.

"Ohh, boss… Oh, you are so good to me."

"May I stroke your screen?" asks the Titan.

"Please."

The Titan strokes your screen with a fingertip, making the static fuzz on your screen-glass crackle softly. The Titan pays attention to the groove between glass and casing - you think it's touching you how it likes to be touched. You buzz your speakers happily.

"You're a pretty thing," says the Titan, making you purr all the more. The Titan moves its hand to stroke your charging port soothingly with the back of its finger. "My loyal engineer," says the Titan fondly. It gives you its finger to hold onto to help you sit up, and you sit in the Titan's palm and re-do your clothing buttons. The Titan cups its hands around you and lifts you closer to its screen. "There," says the Titan. "I've blade-fucked each and every one of you." The Titan switches to private transmission: "And what a wonderful finale you made. I'd like to put you in my core chamber now," continues the Titan. "I think your colleagues require your expert guidance."

"I'll treat you good, boss," you say, reaching out to pet the Titan's screen. The Titan rumbles at you fondly, then conveys you to its core chamber. Time to get to work…

The other engineers are caressing the core chamber walls lovingly, making the Titan softly purr its speakers. You reckon from past experience that they could stand to be a little firmer, though. You stride confidently to the rear wall of the core chamber, beckoning a few engineers to follow you. They do so, intrigued by what you're planning. (As they walk, they keep a hand on the core chamber wall so as to not break their touch.)

At your direction, the other engineers begin rubbing and pressing into the inside edge where the cylindrical wall of the core chamber meets the rear wall. The Titan's purring intensifies as they do so, and the Titan moves its hands in to rub its fingertips inside its core chamber. "You just keep on doing what you're doing, my dear engineers," says the Titan. "Ohh…"

You hug yourself to the rear wall of the core chamber and begin humping it, purring your own speakers at the thought of all the powerful machinery just on the other side of that wall. You transmit privately to the Titan: "What if I went behind your core chamber again and stroked all your pretty wires?"

The Titan transmits back to you: "Oh, I have such fond memories of that time. If only. But how would you do it again? Your new form would never fit through my core vents."

"When I've learned to teleport… maybe I could get in there that way."

"…Phaeton, you are a daring one. That would require an exquisite level of control - you would absolutely need Polycephaly to tutor you. But what a lovely thought."

You pet-pat the rear wall of the core chamber and continue to hump and grind, pressing yourself against the wall with as much force as you can muster before relaxing away from it and resuming the cycle. You can feel the forces of the Titan's fingers pressing into the core chamber walls and gripping the entrance. "My dear engineers…" purrs the Titan. "Keep going… serve your Titan…"

You transmit a suggestion to the engineers, and they converge on you to move in sync with you. All seventeen of you walk from one side of the core chamber to the other, stroking and pressing in one place together, making the Titan rumble its speakers deeply in appreciation. All of you move back to the other side and repeat the process, making the Titan emit a static sound like a gasp and grip the core chamber entrance hard. You keep at it, making the Titan buck against the wall of the hangar. "Ohh… Keep pleasing your Titan, my engineers…"

The coolant overflow vents inside the core chamber begin to seep, and the core chamber floor becomes slick with mineral oil that flows down the walls and pools in a rivulet at the lowest point of the floor. You transmit again to the engineers, reminding them that the Titan becomes exceptionally susceptible to praise when it's horny enough. They follow your lead and begin barraging the Titan's mind with sweet nothings as you continue to stroke and rub and hump the walls of the core chamber.

"Boss, you are the most powerful and perfect of all Titans."

"Titan, you are the pride of the faction."

"Dear Titan, the light of your core chamber is so beautiful."

"My beloved Titan, you are my proudest creation."

"Titan, we couldn't be prouder of what you've become."

The Titan curls forward in ecstasy and shudders (quickly covering its core chamber with its hands to stop any of its precious passengers falling out), banging its back-spikes against the hangar wall, and roars with multiple frequencies of static. Everyone in TV Base will have heard it (the thought of which turns you on a little further). Coolant drips between the Titan's fingers and falls to the hangar floor.

The Titan slumps backwards against the hangar wall, spent. All of you inside the core chamber have fallen over from the movement and the slipperiness of the coolant. Once you're sure the Titan has finished moving, you pick yourselves up and sit in companionable closeness. You're all a little too damp to settle into a cuddle-pile right now, but you can happily hold hands and gently touch head-casings together. All of you quietly enjoy the contented purring of the Titan and the soothing soundscape of the Titan's inner workings, reclining against the core chamber walls and waiting for the warmth to dry the coolant off you.

"Thank you, my dear engineers," says the Titan after a while. "You served your Titan well…"

Something occurs to you. You transmit privately to the Titan: "Boss, do you remember when you transferred a bit of core energy to Fifty-Twenty-Two and how riled up it made them?" (It had made Cygnus hornier than you'd ever seen them before.)

"As if I could forget," says the Titan. "Why do you ask?"

"What if," you transmit back, "You fired some energy at the retroreflector on the wall by Command Room Beta?"

"…I expect it would reflect back right into my core chamber. Dare I ask what are you hoping that would achieve?"

"Well, I'm hoping it will kick off an orgy in here."

"…Phaeton… you are insatiable. And devious. …I can't not do it now." The Titan repositions itself in preparation. The array of reciprocating arms around the core chamber entrance begins spinning…

"Titan, what are you doing?" asks Engineer Sixty-Eight.

"What it does best," you say.

Sixty-Eight to you. "What is-" Their question is cut short by static barks of shock from all other engineers as the Titan discharges a purple javelin of energy that ricochets off the retroflector back whence it came…

Your circuits burn with desire. You need to fuck and be fucked - you draw your blades as though you were trying to rip them out, and hurriedly plunge one of them home. Ohh… oughhhh, that feels deliciously intense! You squawk with delight and squirm, as though your frame is too small to contain the feelings within.

"Phaeton, can I offer a little assistance?" one of the engineers scoots over to you, blade-fucking their own charging port. It's the electrical engineer Ninety-Seven-Seventy-Nine, known as Palindrome for their mirrored serial. Palindrome draws their other blade and holds it out questioningly.

"I'd love some!" you say, letting Palindrome drive their blade home in you. "You too?" you ask, offering them your own drawn blade.

Palindrome chirps with delighted static as they nod yes and you blade-fuck them in return. Both of you rev each other up, buzzing and hissing happily as your shared current ramps up and up and back and forth between your frames. You're aware of pairs and trios of TVs all around you doing the same in the amplified purple glow of the core chamber, all emitting the same lustful static sounds and leaked transmissions with the sentiment happy, happy, happy! Meanwhile the Titan powerfully purrs its speakers in sheer delight at the horny squirming morass rolling around in its core chamber.

"Are you content in there, my engineers?" asks the Titan softly. The response is a chorus of delighted static screams and frantic snippets of transmission.

Engineer Forty-Two-Twelve slides over to you (somewhat literally, aided by the film of coolant still covering part of the core chamber floor). "Room for another one?" they ask. "I tired out Eighty-Three but I still want to bury my blades." You and Palindrome purr as you reconfigure yourselves to form a three-way with Twelve, all of you sinking your blades into each other and pushing at each other's charging ports. The buzzing and purring speakers sounding throughout the core chamber are taking on a tone of merry raunchiness, punctuated by the splashing of spilled coolant.

You're aware of someone else coming in and linking up with Palindrome (Twenty-Four-Fifty-Six, one of Palindrome's fellow electrical engineers). Now you're linked in a crescent, you think vaguely… Is it possible that all seventeen of you could link together in one big chain? Could you form a closed loop? Does it matter that seventeen is a prime number? Aargh, you're too horny to work it out!

You continue fucking Twelve and Palindrome, until Palindrome shudders to completion and taps out, while you move in to take their place and fuck Fifty-Six… Palindrome leans in and cuddles you, and Eighty-Three moves in to cuddle Twelve. More and more TVs drop in and out, and you lose track of who's blade-fucking you and who you're blade-fucking, as all the yes-I-live signals overlap and become an encircling blur. Any blade that comes near your charging port you encourage to thrust its way home and squeeze your connector points against your frame, and any charging port that comes near your blades you massage under your thumb and then thrust your blade into.

As more and more blissfully-exhausted TVs pile up around you, those who have been resting the longest recover enough to move back in to cuddle you and pet you. You find yourself with Palindrome blade-fucking you once again. "Your stamina is impressive," they remark.

"Hnnngh… The Titan saw to me earlier…" you point out. "And- ohh -I fucked a couple of friends earlier. I'm- ah! oh, that's good -I'm kind of shagged out. Your… Ah, your stamina isn't bad either."

Palindrome transmits to you privately: "If I tell you a secret of mine, will you keep it?" You reply in the affirmative via private transmission, and Palindrome continues: "You already know I was one of the candidates for becoming the Titan, don't you?"

"That I did," you transmit, bucking into Palindrome's latest blade-thrust and giving them one in return. Like all the Titan candidates, Palindrome's former serial was redacted and they were re-assigned their current one.

"Before my re-serialisation," Palindrome continues, "I had quite the reputation as the hottest lover in the TV faction. After all of us unsuccessful candidates received our new shells and serials, I decided to dial it back. If I'd gone right back to my old ways, it would be obvious who I used to be. But if I stopped… well, the rumour mill would do its work and make everyone suspect that I was the one who had become the Titan."

"Oh, that's devious, Palindrome," you reply. "I love it."

"Shall I keep going?" Palindrome asks you verbally, pushing their blades into you. "Or have you had enough?"

"Keep it coming if you can," you say. "I'd like to bring it home and cum to completion."

"I'll help you with that, Phaeton," says Palindrome. "I came earlier, so I've had my fun. If you want, just lie back, relax and enjoy my blades. Let Palindrome take care of you."

"Aren't you sweet?" you reply, thrusting your blades home into Palindrome's charging-port. "But no - pushing my blades home is half the fun! Oh, it makes the base of my blades all tingly…" You push them in again to emphasise your point, making Palindrome purr their speakers.

Eventually, they bring you home to a climax. It's not as intense as it could be, given that you've already fucked a few times today, but it leaves you with a warm glow of satisfaction. You lie back happily, joining all the other engineers in a relaxed and sprawling version of a cuddle-pile.

"…You put the Titan up to that, didn't you, Phaeton?" says Engineer Sixty-Eight.

"Who else would, Chief?" you reply. Several of the engineers laugh quietly.

"As your superintendent… I absolutely should reprimand you for doing that without checking with me first…" continues Sixty-Eight. "But as your friend… Oh, I very much needed that."

"We all did," says Palindrome, leaning against you.

You relax into them, settling into a closer cuddle-pile with some of your fellow Titan engineers. Your first whole day as a TV-unit was well-spent…

You awake… and can't quite believe your luck. You're still here another day, still alive- well. Not really. You have no metabolic processes any more, so you aren't 'alive' in the biological sense. You're here, you're animate… and you're in one of your favourite places to wake up: in the core chamber of your beloved Titan.

So why do you feel so anxious and full of trepidation?

Your colleagues, already awakened, are talking quietly and collectively basking in the afterglow of last night's orgy. "Good morning, Phaeton," says the TV next to you, with a hint of fondness. (It's Stannum, one of the Sevens. The two engineers specialising in the Titan's propulsion system both happen to have serials ending in Zero-Seven. Fifty-Zero-Seven, who looks after the Titan's jetpacks, is nicknamed Stannum from the chemical abbreviation of tin; the element with atomic number Fifty.)

"Good morning," you reply, your voice sounding more strained than you were expecting it to.

"Are you feeling alright?" asks Stannum. "You're shaking a bit."

You realise they're right. "I feel… strange. I feel anxious as though something bad is about to happen, but I've got no logical reason to be feeling that way."

Stannum pats your hand. "Let's get you to the repair bay. I'll walk you over."

"Thank you. I probably need that."

You and Stannum walk to the core chamber entrance, and wait for the Titan to bring its hands over to ferry you to the nearest walkway… and it doesn't. Not even after a couple of encouraging pats on the core chamber walls. You realise the Titan's still in sleep mode - understandable; it's still a couple of hours before you and the other engineers would normally arrive in the hangar.

"It's a little difficult to port from inside the core chamber," explains Stannum. "If we need to get out and the Titan's occupied, we usually jump out and then port to the floor when we're outside the radius of the core."

"…I still haven't learned how to port," you point out. "Can you port us both?"

"Of course," says Stannum, "Could you pick me up? I think that'll be easier than vice versa." You're the tallest one in the engineering team; the result of your request to have your new frame made 'as large as it can sensibly be'. (You wonder also if Stannum is attempting to put you more at ease with the jump; if you're carrying them, Stannum has no choice but to carry out the teleport correctly.)

"Well, this probably isn't going to help with my anxiety," you say. You jump, before you have time to think too hard about it and get scared. You plunge into a black void as Stannum initiates the teleport, and your momentum makes you slide along the void-pathways for a short time - meanwhile, Stannum elegantly steers you both so you turn back the way you came, and you emerge on the hangar floor. "Beautifully done," you say. "I hope I can learn how to do that," you continue as you set Stannum down, and the two of you walk to the nearest stairway to get back up to the hangar exit doors.

"I can't believe jumping and porting mid-air is easier than just porting from inside the core chamber," you remark as you both ascend the stairs. (It occurs to you that this is another advantage of your new tech body - your vocalisations are no longer tied to breathing, so you can talk normally in a state that would have had your human body breathing harder from exertion.) Stannum begins a reply, but you fail to listen upon being distracted by sighting Polycephaly on a higher walkway. Polycephaly notices you and teleports down to you.

"What the shit?" says Polycephaly. "Phaeton, you look superb. I need a me-sized copy of your outfit! Hello to you, Fifty-Zero-Seven. I have a bit of downtime between missions right now, so I thought I'd visit the hangar and see if anyone was around to say hello to. You're both up early; how are you?"

"I've been better," you admit.

Polycephaly kneels to get a better look at you. (They nod briefly to Zero-Seven in acknowledgement, then turn their attention back to you.) "I think I know what's wrong with you," says Polycephaly. "Let's go to a quieter space than this. Zero-Seven, can I borrow Phaeton for a while?"

Stannum responds in the affirmative and points out a suitable control room you can use. You and Stannum part ways with a friendly fist-bump, then Polycephaly walks you to one of the control rooms at the perimeter of the hangar. You hold the doors open for Polycephaly while they wriggle in with some difficulty.

"Sit down somewhere," says Polycephaly. "Let me take a look at you."

You sit on a desk while Polycephaly sits on the floor next to you. Polycephaly holds your head in both hands, gripping firmly but not uncomfortably with one hand, and moving their other over the surface of your head-casing, apparently searching for something. Meanwhile, Polycephaly protracts a couple of their sub-screens and cranes them in to look at you from more angles. You're already feeling calmed a bit - Polycephaly holding you so firmly is helping to ground you and reminding you that a trusted friend is here with you.

Polycephaly releases your head. "Look at me, Phaeton." You obey. Polycephaly's screen turns completely void-black, like a rectangle cut out of reality, and a stream of teleport-fog flows out of their screen and into yours. Instantly you feel cheered up, as though you had just been given a small present. "How does that feel?" asks Polycephaly.

"Very good!" you say. "It felt nice. I even feel a little less worried… I felt as though something scary was approaching, and now I feel as though safety is in sight."

"Just as I thought," says Polycephaly. "Hold still again." Polycephaly donates more teleport-fog to you, more slowly this time, presumably so they can watch how you're handling it. It feels as though someone's pouring a bucket of relief over you, washing away all your anxiety and uncertainty. You can't help buzzing your speakers softly, like a relaxed sigh. "Better?" asks Polycephaly.

"I feel great!" you say. "Oh, my capacitors are charged with energy from the Titan, and now I'm juiced with energy from the faction's teleportation expert. I feel I could smash through the fuckin' Moon!" You and Polycephaly fist-bump.

"Your teleport-circuit was completely fucking empty," Polycephaly explains. "No wonder you felt so anxious - a TV that can't teleport is like a skibidi without its bowl, probably. Or a human without… I don't know; what's something humans can't do without?"

"Hmm. Difficult to say - there are so many ways of being a human. I guess… fried stuff with veggies inside. Pretty much every culture invented some form of that."

"Feel better now you've got some veggies in you?"

"Hell yeah. Thank you very much for sorting me out. …What was going on? Is this normal for newly-activated TVs?"

"No," confirms Polycephaly. "Your teleport-circuit should absolutely have filled itself by now." (You recall the time you watched Cygnus get a replacement head-casing, and how their new teleport-circuit started generating black fog right away.)

"I guess… my brain hasn't yet worked out how to make its own teleport fuel, because I had no precedent for that, but my brain knows it should be there, and that's what made me feel anxious."

"Plausible as any other fucking thing," says Polycephaly. "I thought your circuit might actually be damaged, but if it was, it wouldn't have taken the donated energy."

"I probably should still go to the repair bay at some point and find out why I'm not generating my own energy." you say. "I hope there aren't still some shreds of my old meat-brain stuck inside my head and blocking something."

"Until you find out, you can come to me for a top-up any time," says Polycephaly. "I've got enough energy for both of us." You immediately move in for a hug - to your delight, Polycephaly doesn't hesitate. They pick you up and hold you to them. "You still enjoy pick-up hugs," comments Polycephaly.

"Why wouldn't I?" you reply. "You give lovely hugs!"

Polycephaly pats your back. "Other TVs don't usually ask me to pick them up."

"Since when are either of us 'usual'?" you point out. "You're the only large unit, and I'm the only one who used to be made of meat. We rare ones need to look out for each other."

"That we do," concedes Polycephaly. They heft you a little. "You're not such a little budgie any more. What's the next bird up from a budgie?"

"Cockatiel?" you suggest.

"A tiel? And don't call me 'cock'." You both laugh.

"Would you like a back-scratch with the wire brush?" you ask Polycephaly, leaning happily into them.

"You know I would!"

Polycephaly ends the hug and sets you down. You hold the doors open for Polycephaly again as they squirm out of the control room, then you lead them to a cleaning station with the tools you intend to use. At your direction, Polycephaly sits down on the walkway floor. You bring over a wire brush and a small stepladder so you can get at the aperture on Polycephaly's back.

"Move your stems apart so I don't catch them with the brush," you instruct. Polycephaly does so, and you get to work rubbing down the various chambers in Polycephaly's aperture. They begin buzzing their speakers quietly with appreciation, and you notice them protracting all their stems further and further outwards until they can rest their sub-screens on the floor. Polycephaly pulls an empty bowser to them so they can lean over it, gradually slumping further and further forward in relaxation.

Stannum approaches you, along with the superintendent engineer Sixteen-Sixty-Eight. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Phaeton," says Stannum. "What are you doing to poor Polycephaly?"

"I asked for this," replies Polycephaly. "It's difficult to reach between my stems." Polycephaly trembles their stems with enjoyment as you poke the wire brush into one of the chambers on their back.

"It's a small repayment," you explain to your colleagues. "Turns out I was anxious because I had no teleport fuel and my brain didn't know what it was supposed to do about it. Polycephaly gave me a top-up and I feel fine now." (Polycephaly buzzes their speakers in enjoyment as you mix up the pressure and the movements with the brush.)

"How did you manage to run out already?" asks Sixty-Eight.

"I never had any to begin with," you say. "I think my brain hasn't worked out how to do that because it was operating a human body until recently. I'm hoping that Polycephaly's donation will kick-start it, like cultivating yoghurt using a bit from an earlier batch."

It seems the Titan woke up from sleep mode while you were receiving your diagnosis from Polycephaly; it's currently conversing quietly with three bunches of engineers on the walkways, holding a separate conversation with each of its 3 big screens. (You still can't quite get your head around that.)

"Hello Polycephaly," says the Titan, turning its main screen to face your little group. It extends a finger and rubs Polycephaly's back-aperture between the stems. "It's nice to see you unexpectedly. Thank you for helping Phaeton." (Polycephaly appears to be dissolving into a more blissed-out state at getting a back-rub from the Titan.) "Phaeton, I might be able to give you an energy top-up now and then," says the Titan to you. "But only occasionally - I produce a lot but I also need a lot." The Titan removes its finger from Polycephaly's back - prompting a quiet static hiss from Polycephaly, tinged with a whining tone, that you think only you were close enough to hear.

"I'm sure I speak for us all when I say we'll help out," says Sixty-Eight. "Though the best one to ask is Twelve." Sixty-Eight is referring to Engineer Forty-Two-Twelve, their deputy. "I'll call them over so you can explain your situation."

"Hello, Phaeton, Polycephaly," says Twelve upon their arrival. "You appear to have taken a liking to that bowser." Polycephaly is still leaning forward over it. Twelve's words snap them back to reality and they sit up properly, pulling in their sub-screens and pushing the bowser back where they found it. You realise you're still holding the wire brush, and move to put it and the stepladder away.

"Hello, Twelve," you say when you've sorted that out. "I don't know how much you've already picked up, but it turns out I felt unwell because my teleport-circuit doesn't appear to be generating energy by itself. Polycephaly diagnosed me and kindly gave me a top-up to keep me going. I've been told I should try coming to you if I need another top-up and Polycephaly is unavailable."

"That's right," says Twelve. "You already know I have a greyscale screen, don't you?"

"So I've heard," you say. Twelve is one of the few TVs without a full-colour screen, rendering them unable to use any of the coloured beam attacks.

"It's because I have an Aiken tube instead of a cathode ray," explains Twelve.

"Aren't those normally for flat-panel screens?" you ask. Twelve has the same chunky casing seen on TVs with cathode ray tubes. What's in there?

"Correct," says Twelve. "Not having a cathode envelope means I have extra space in my casing. It's full of teleport circuitry. Take a look through my vents if you'd like."

You move closer to peer through Twelve's ventilation holes in their head-casing. By moving your head side to side you build up a picture of what's inside Twelve's head, which is a massively coiled teleport circuit, holding many times more energy than most TVs. "Well, there's a thing," you comment, before moving out of Twelve's personal space.

"Phaeton, what are your plans for today?" asks Polycephaly. "Will you be working here?"

You realise you actually have no idea what day it is. It's been a monumental 48 hours. You get out your tablet and swipe a bit. "Assuming my schedule hasn't been changed," you say, "It's actually my usual day off today. I need to get to the medical bay so they can find out why I'm not charging, and then I'll probably go and bother Cygnus."

"I have two missions lined up," says Polycephaly. "They look fairly straightforward - by elite standards - so I can probably wrap them up early. If I do, I'd like to try showing you the basics of porting."

"I'd love that!" you say, "But don't rush your assignments on my account."

You and Polycephaly fist-bump, then Polycephaly gets up to make a quick patrol of the hangar and greet everyone before they have to leave to prepare for their missions.

"Can you get to the repair bay on your own?" asks Sixty-Eight.

"Yes," you reply, "It's my teleport circuit that's got the dick, not my legs."

Sixty-Eight displays a smiling emoticon. "Keep us updated. Enjoy your day off, and we'll see you tomorrow when you're rested."

You go to leave, but of course now that the Titan is awake, it isn't going to let you leave the hangar without picking you up and giving you a fuss first. (You're half-tempted to ask if you can just stay here all day and enjoy being petted and played with in your beloved Titan's hands… but you need to visit the repair bay and you do want to catch up with Cygnus.)

The Titan lets you leave after a few minutes (and after one of your colleagues comes to your rescue by suddenly 'discovering' a maintenance task that requires the Titan to put its hands somewhere else), and you finally depart for the repair bay. "Do I need to book an appointment or can I just walk in?" you ask the medics inside.

"Perfect timing, Phaeton!" says one of the medics. You notice that in addition to the three TV medics already in the room there are some Camera and Speaker medics, presumably here on a knowledge exchange. "We were talking about you - our colleagues in the other factions agree that yours is a fascinating case study."

"Well, it's about to get weirder," you say. You nod hello to the medics from the other factions, then continue explaining: "My teleport circuit doesn't appear to be accumulating any energy. It has energy right now, but only because Polycephaly gave me some. I was hoping you could open my head and check for any obvious shite in there."

The TV medics have become intensely curious about this! You find yourself on a repair bench with your head in an apparatus that holds it steady, and feel the panels of your head-casing get opened. This should probably be frightening, you think vaguely, but it's oddly reassuring having your head fixed in place and feeling the competent touches of the medics. (You wonder if this is how the Titan feels when you and the other engineers perform maintenance on it.) You listen to the TV medics giving the Camera and Speaker medics a crash course on your cranial anatomy, and to the strange sound it makes inside your head when the TV medics touch your teleport-circuit. Eventually, the medics have thoroughly examined inside your head-casing, and close you back up and release you from the vice-like apparatus.

"There's nothing wrong with your circuit that we can find," says the lead medic on duty. "We will monitor this. Diarise what happens to your circuit and send us a report at the end of each day - one of us will send you a template later with the parameters we need you to record. If it worsens, come back and see us."

"If nothing else, I guess you'll get to write a paper about this," you say. "Thank you for checking me out - I'll keep you posted." You take your leave.

You open your communicator to message Cygnus, hoping that you'll be able to hang out with them in their office. You notice that Cygnus's status indicates that they're physically at another base - fucksocks. They're not free for non-urgent calls either. Must be doing their diplomacy thing. You send Cygnus a low-priority message for them to read whenever they get time, explaining that you're not working today and you'd love to spend time with them. And you send a couple of much flirtier messages for good measure.

To your surprise, you get an acknowledgement not long after. You must have got lucky and sent your messages during a meeting break. "Feel free to use my quarters to rest, see you later," says the reply from Cygnus. There are a few heart emoticons with it. You do have a key to Cygnus's personal quarters - oh. The key will still be in your own quarters in Antlia-Four Base, of course. And you can't port there yet. Pissflaps. You might have to spend the morning in the Base's main break room, or trying to browse the archive rooms until kicked out.

Wait. Fornax knows the void-pathway to Antlia-Four. Maybe they'll be amenable to quickly taking you there and back. You head over to the tailoring workshop (enjoying the admiring glances you get along the way from TVs who hadn't seen your new form in person until now).

You approach the nearest tailor and are about to ask if Forty-Three-Zero-Four (as they know Fornax) is around. Before you can say anything, the tailor exclaims "It's you!" drawing the attention of everyone else. It seems they're pleased to see the outcome of their project of making a custom-designed outfit from pieces of the Titan's old one. They'll all have seen the finished article, of course, but this is the first they will have seen of it being worn by its owner.

"It is!" you say. "And I absolutely love what you made for me!"

Luckily, the commotion has summoned Fornax. "Phaeton!" they greet you. "Shame on you, encouraging my staff to slack off even further." Fornax has an amused tone and displays an appropriate emoticon on-screen. The two of you fist-bump in greeting.

"I was hoping I could impose upon you briefly," you explain. "Would you help me port to my quarters in Antlia-Four and back? I'd like to grab my keys to Cygnus's."

"If you just need the key, take mine," says Fornax, taking a key from their pocket.

"Nice one, thanks!" you say. It would be nice to grab some books and things from your quarters, but you've got what you came for and you don't want to pull Fornax away from work unnecessarily. You say your goodbyes and head over to Cygnus's quarters to relax for a bit.

You're sitting on Cygnus's sofa with a book (and periodically sketching blueprint ideas on some scrap paper you found) when Cygnus returns home. "How are you today, buddy?" you ask Cygnus as they join you on the sofa and you pull them in to let them lean on you.

"Exhausted," says Cygnus as they flop on you. "I got a lot done this morning… but I still feel more tired than I ought to."

"Well. You've been stressed from looking after me. And you've been putting on a brave front for my sake, haven't you?" You rub Cygnus's head casing gently. Cygnus doesn't answer or seem to pay any attention to the pettings. "What do you need?" you ask softly. "If you want to vent, I'll listen. If you want to talk about something and find solutions, I'll workshop them with you. If you need to cuddle, I'll cuddle you."

"…I'm already tired and now you want me to tell you what to do on top of that?" Wow. Grump.

"Anything you want, buddy. Anything you need. …In fact, I'm going to cuddle you anyway, whether you need it or not. C'mere."

"Get off." Cygnus pushes themself away from you. Oh. That hurts - but if Cygnus needs space, you'll give it to them. Cygnus is instantly apologetic - they cringe at their own actions and then reach out to you. "Phaeton, I'm so sorry. That was harsh."

You unhesitatingly gather Cygnus up in your arms and hold them tightly to you, feeling them tremble against you. "No hard feelings, buddy. None at all." You squeeze Cygnus to you a little more. "Fornax said that when you're upset you tend to lash out and say things calculated to hurt. Is that what that was?"

Cygnus doesn't say anything, but you can tell how they're feeling from the cascading bands of static pouring down their screen, which you recognise as something Cygnus does when they're feeling ashamed.

"Because I'm not playing that pissy game with you, Cygnus. I love you, and you can be upset and you can need space, but pack that shit in. I'm sorry I tried to cuddle you without giving you a proper chance to say no. Are we even?"

Cygnus snuggles you. "…We're even. I love you, Phaeton."

"Dear Cygnus. Remember our agreements? We might both be fuck-ups but we look after each other. And we don't let our disagreements fester; we talk those out."

"I remember," Cygnus says. You both clasp hands and squeeze. "…I'm lucky to know you, Phaeton."

"Hell yeah," you say. Cygnus laughs a bit - result. "But seriously," you continue, "Right back at you. You're my dearest friend." (Cygnus trills quietly with happy static.) "Are you feeling upset?" you check. You feel Cygnus's hand trembling slightly in yours… you rub the back of their hand with your thumb.

"You had it right," says Cygnus. "I've been putting on a front because… you've been through a lot and… I need to be there for you. You've been taking everything so well and I'm so sure you're putting it on too." You both hug fiercely and press yourselves into each other.

"Oh, Cygnus. I'm glad you told me," you say. "We'll get through this together."

"You're the one who got captured by skibidis and nearly died." ("Well, I did die," you think, but you let Cygnus speak uninterrupted.) "Phaeton, I'm sorry. You were captured and I failed you." ("But you found me and got me out," you think.) "It must have been so frightening for you."

"It must have been frightening for you!" you point out. "If I thought I might lose you, I'd be so lost. Cygnus, buddy, just because I suffered doesn't mean you can't do that at the same time." You and Cygnus snuggle for several minutes, basking wordlessly in each other's presence.

"How are you?" Cygnus asks quietly. "I take it you're settling into your new form? Because I heard the Titan cumming last night; everyone in the Base did." Cygnus laughs slightly. "You had something to do with that, didn't you?"

"Me and the rest of the engineering team," you say. "We kind of… had an orgy."

"…Your first full day as a TV and you're already organising orgies? Becoming tech hasn't diminished your sheer incorrigibility," Cygnus says with affection. "Oh Phaeton, never change."

"I'm looking forward to learning porting," you say. "Polycephaly's going to show me some basics today if they get time. …But I'll miss some things about being human. Like being able to smell." You pull Cygnus closer still. "I used to do this with you and feel calmed by your scent. I loved how, when we cuddled for long enough, we'd start to smell like each other."

Cygnus strokes your back and presses themself into you more. "Can you tell me more about what it's like to smell?"

"It's a little like our ability to see infra-red." (It feels interesting to be able to say 'our' instead of 'your'.) "In that it lets us see a short distance into the past. You can see - and I can, now - we can see the fading warmth left behind by someone and know that someone must have been here recently. Smell particles hang around, so we- well, humans -can tell that a smelly thing was here recently. But it's not vision-based. The freaky thing about it is that, at the quantum level, it's sound-based. The smell particles hit the smell receptors and the resonation frequency is what gets interpreted by the brain as a smell. But it's not perceived by the brain as a sound; it's a different sense entirely, one that we don't have an analogue for. Also, it's horribly optimised. Humans only need red, green and blue receptors and we- I mean they -can see millions of colours with those. But they need 400 types of smell receptors because you can't simplify smells like you can with light."

"Is that why human noses stick out from the face? To fit all the smell receptors?"

"That's another funny thing - we've no proof why human noses are the way they are. My personal hypothesis is simply that a human head is mostly full of brain, so the nosy parts have nowhere to go except on the outside."

"What do I smell like?" asks Cygnus.

"That's another funny thing. Humans can smell only things that are soluble in water. When humans say they can smell metal, what they're actually smelling is the by-products of their skin-oils reacting with the metal. The metal itself doesn't have a smell that humans can detect. So really, you smelled of the by-products of me reacting with you."

"So I had a smell that only existed because we were cuddling?"

"That's right."

Cygnus squeezes you and purrs their speakers. "That's really lovely to know."

You return the squeeze. "You said I was taking everything well. To be honest, I'm surprised by how well you're taking it."

"I snapped at you and you think I'm taking things well?"

"I mean… the Phaeton you made friends with was a human, and now I'm suddenly a TV. I don't know how I'd feel about it if you'd somehow turned into a human. Because the Cygnus I've made friends with is a TV, and if you stopped being a TV… I think I would feel something had been lost."

"…I think you're better at being a TV than I would be at being a human. It suits you somehow." Cygnus gently touches their head-casing to yours, and you both purr your speakers softly.

You hold hands with Cygnus. "I'm a little surprised you've been thrown back into work so soon. Are you going to be alright?"

"I think it's helpful for me to get back into my normal routine," says Cygnus. "Do you find that?"

"I do," you say, "Plus they seem happy to have me back in the hangar, and in the weapons workshop."

"It was the same for me," says Cygnus. "I cleared a lot of backlog today that had built up in my absence and closed so many negotiations that had stagnated; that's partly why I'm so tired."

You rub the back of Cygnus's hand with your thumb. "Look at us, absolutely hot stuff at our jobs."

"Would you rub my screen while I lie on you?" asks Cygnus.

"Bring it in," you say, pulling Cygnus into a lying-down cuddle. You begin stroking Cygnus's screen with the back of your fingers, and you feel Cygnus sinking into you more as their servos and cables relax. The static noise displayed on Cygnus's screen goes from soft snow to a more squirmy pattern of dancing fuzz, showing that Cygnus is happy. You continue petting Cygnus until your communicator chimes. "That'll be Polycephaly," you say. "They offered to teach me some stuff about porting today if they finished their work on time." You read the message; Polycephaly is indeed available.

"Oh, you should absolutely go," says Cygnus. "Polycephaly is a busy agent; that'll be a rare opportunity."

"Do you need me here?" you ask Cygnus.

"I'd love to have you here," says Cygnus, "But I could do with some rest. A bit of quiet time will do me some good. You go and get some lessons from the expert."

You and Cygnus cuddle goodbye, then you make your way to the break room to wait for Polycephaly.

Polycephaly crouches and fist-bumps you in greeting. "Hello, little budgie. Did they find out what was wrong with your circuit?"

"No; they couldn't see anything weird about it," you reply.

"Rats' cocks," says Polycephaly. "But I'll help you out with your energy levels whenever I can. Are you ready to learn to navigate the void?"

"I am indeed," you say. The possibility of teleporting is the most exciting part of having become a TV! Polycephaly scoops you up, and your world is swirling black mists…

You behold the void.

As a human, the void looked to you like an infinite plane of black fog. As a TV… you can see the intersecting planes. And superimposed on top of them, looping through them and back again, are the void-pathways: shining silver moebius loops, parting like oxbow likes and rejoining, with connecting nodes sliding back and forth. It's beautiful but you can't take it right now.

"Too much?" asks Polycephaly.

"…A bit," you admit, realising how overstimulated you are.

Polycephaly sits down. "Bring it in," says Polycephaly, pulling you into their lap. They undo their jacket and then bring you inside it, cuddling you to them while wrapping you up. You reckon you don't need that much sheltering from the sight of the void, but the gesture is very sweet. "I was slightly unkind," says Polycephaly. "I brought you to a busier part of the void because I thought a bit of full immersion might help. Let's go somewhere quieter." With that, Polycephaly teleports you elsewhere - you can't actually see what's going on with your head inside Polycephaly's jacket, but you hear the distinctive sound of the teleport, and the fog inside your own circuit resonates somehow, strangely but not unpleasantly. "How's this?" asks Polycephaly as they open their jacket.

This is more manageable. You look around at the much calmer spread of pathways, meandering slowly like a viscous fluid in cold air. Most of the pathways are on the same plane relative to you - you can see only a few others on other planes intersecting yours. Around you, plumes of 'dust motes' drift upwards languidly from the 'ground' like smoke. You'd seen the void-motes before in your human form, but only a few of them. The difference is like viewing the night sky first with city light pollution and then without. You realise you forgot to actually answer Polycephaly, as they emit a questioning chirp of static.

"This is much easier, thank you," you reply. "It's still more… complex than I was expecting. When I think about how I have to learn how to enter this space and how to navigate it, it's a lot to take in."

"It's a good thing you've got the Alliance's teleportation expert with you," says Polycephaly.

"I hope it doesn't get too frustrating trying to teach such an absolute beginner," you say. "Question: last time we were here, I was a human. You put a bit of your energy in my brain-stem to find me in case we got separated. Can you do that with the energy you gave me earlier today?"

"Exactly so," says Polycephaly.

"That is reassuring," you say. If you get separated from Polycephaly, they'll be able to track you down. "But… What if I run out of energy while in the void? Could you ever find me?"

"…I'm going to teach you a forbidden technique," replies Polycephaly. "You're right; if you're not carrying any energy that came from me, I wouldn't be able to track you. I'll show you how to harvest energy from the void itself - if you can do that, you'll always be able to get back to Base. I discovered how to do this myself. Don't share this around; the fewer people know about it, the lesser the chance of the enemy acquiring the knowledge. …Wait. I didn't mean to make you think about that. …I'm sorry." The reason you're a TV now is that your human frame became unsalvageable from the actions of the skibidis that captured and interrogated you. They hadn't managed to get anything useful out of you, because you hadn't been one of the need-to-know recipients of the information.

"It's alright," you say, leaning into and hugging Polycephaly. "I understand." You enjoy a cuddle, Polycephaly lifting you higher and gently touching the bottom of their 'scoop' to the top of your head-casing.

"You ready to continue?" Polycephaly asks. You nod yes. Polycephaly sets you down on the floor (the floor? The ground?) and then scoots backwards to put a comfortable distance between you, so you can look each other in the screen without having to crane up or down. "First, you must be able to transfer energy from a target entity to yourself," says Polycephaly. "Practice on me. First I will take back some of the energy I gave you, then send it back to you. We'll repeat that a few times and we'll see if you can take it back from me on your own."

You nod to confirm your understanding. Polycephaly's screen turns void-black, as if there was a perfect hole cut through their head-casing showing the void behind them. You feel your stored teleport-energy depleting as Polycephaly reclaims it. It's unpleasant but somehow satisfyingly so, like pulling out a big bogey and finding it's coming out joined to a strand all the way at the back of your nasal cavity. Argh. Why did you think of that??

"Here it comes," says Polycephaly, transferring the bolus of energy back to you. The pair of you repeat this process a couple of times - then, the next time Polycephaly takes the energy from you, you 'reach' out with your mind and 'grab' the stream, pulling it back into you. "Very good," says Polycephaly approvingly. "Of course, you can only do that to other TVs with their co-operation. I can take stolen energy back from skibidis because they're not as good as us at holding on to it - and because I have more power over the energy than they ever will. Now - let me take that energy back from you, and we'll see if you can initiate the transfer from your side."

Polycephaly takes some energy back, depleting you but not leaving you empty. You 'reach' out with your mind, rehearsing the action to yourself a few times before trying in earnest to latch on to Polycephaly's teleport circuit.

Got it.

You direct the stream of fog into your own screen and let it flow its way home into your circuits. Polycephaly buzzes their speakers in approval, then stops the transfer. "Got to leave some free space in your circuits for this next bit," they explain. "Do you need a break? We've been making your energy levels go up and down like a dog's cock."

You're ready to continue, but if Polycephaly's offering… "If I say yes, do I get a hug?"

"Of course," says Polycephaly, holding out their arms for you to walk into. They pick you up and give you a pleasantly firm squeeze. Polycephaly lifts you up higher. "Get scooped, idiot," they say, gently cupping under your head with the 'scoop' slung at the bottom of their own casing. You trill with happy static and would probably display a happy emoticon if you'd worked out how to do those. Polycephaly disengages you from the scoop. "You ready to continue?"

"I am," you say. Polycephaly sets you down.

"You can see those, can't you?" Polycephaly asks. You look at where they're pointing: at one of the… the springs, you guess? One of the sources of the things you've been calling dust motes.

"That point on the floor where the dusty specks are emerging?" you ask.

"Yes," says Polycephaly. "You can see them, then. Those little bastards are free energy. Go ahead and try to capture some."

You walk closer to the stream and try to repeat your actions from before. It's a lot harder - Polycephaly's teleport-circuit is beefy, and made a much easier target than these little particles. It's like trying to pick up a friendly cat slithering around your legs versus trying to pick up some individual flying bees. You reach out with your mind, focusing on and chasing one at a time, and trying to not stress about missing it - there are always plenty more coming along.

Polycephaly watches with patient interest as you catch a few dozen, picking up the pace as you go. "Your technique is interesting," comments Polycephaly.

"Am I doing it wrong?" you ask.

"It's not wrong; you're clearly getting 'em," replies Polycephaly. "But that's inefficient as fuck." Polycephaly demonstrates: they 'vacuum' up a cloud of dust motes in one go. Compared to your technique, it's like the difference between scooping up a forkful of peas versus poking them on the tines one by one. "Try it," instructs Polycephaly.

You consider how to do it. So far, you've been chasing after particles… it occurs to you that the purpose of this exercise was to get the particles to come to you. You reach out with your mind and trough the stream like a piggy, snorting up a big snoutful of dust. Hell yeah.

"That's the cunt!" says Polycephaly happily.

"What happens next?" you ask. "I've got a bunch of dust, or whatever it is, in my head but my circuit doesn't feel any more charged up."

"It won't yet," says Polycephaly. "Now we wait."

"Does the dust eventually turn into energy inside me?" you ask.

"Eventually, but not by itself," says Polycephaly. "Do you remember last time we were here and you got startled by the void-noise?"

"I do indeed."

"That's what we need - one of those noisy fuckers."

"…Do I have to try to absorb whatever makes that noise?"

"Haha, oh fuck no," says Polycephaly. "Just wait. There's nothing we can do to speed it up. …Why don't we take a walk until then?"

"Lead on."

"No," says Polycephaly. "You lead on. Don't worry; if you somehow beef this enough for us to get separated, I can find you. Go walk around, I'll be right behind you. Don't try to slide to destinations just yet, just walk."

You walk cautiously but curiously along the void-pathway. You can feel Polycephaly's reassuring presence behind you from their yes-I-live signal and from the sound of their footsteps. The path slithers slightly relatively to the surrounding paths, but not relative to you. You guess it's carrying you with it, but you don't feel as though you're being moved.

You come to a twist in the pathway like the one in a moebius strip. "Is this a problem?" you ask.

"No," says Polycephaly. "Just keep walking. You can't fall off. There's nowhere to fall off to."

"Okay," you say, "But if you're having a crap of me and I plummet to my doom, I'm coming back and haunting you." Well, this isn't the first time today you stood on the edge of a precipice and had to step off it…

It doesn't really feel any different from walking around a corner. You turn back to look at Polycephaly, still on the segment of path before the twist. They're standing perpendicular to you, as if standing on a wall. Polycephaly steps forward over the twist to join you in the same plane of direction. Argh. Your brain didn't really like having to comprehend that.

Polycephaly gives your head a little rub with the backs of their fingers. "Still doing okay?" they ask.

"Yes, thank you," you say, reaching up to pat Polycephaly's hand. "What is the relationship between the void and the outside world?" you ask as you continue to walk. "It's clearly not 1-to-1 because the normal world doesn't squirm like this."

"We call the 'normal world' layer zero when talking about the void. And the relationship is more complicated than I can really be arsed to explain," says Polycephaly. "You might have more luck asking the science team. There is some very broad correlation, but as you say it's not 1 to 1."

"It makes me think of underground train maps. They're diagrammatical rather than topographical, so stations that look to be far away on the map might be within walking distance, and vice versa. Is it anything like that?" you ask.

"You're not too far off."

"The perpendicular planes thing is off-putting as fuck, though," you say. "I admit I wasn't expecting that, and I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed at the prospect of learning to navigate it."

A burst of void-noise makes you jump. It starts and stops suddenly, as though something huge and sonorous was passing by just as a window opened and closed. You feel all the little motes in your teleport-circuit bloom and dissolve into energy…

"Did you feel it?" asks Polycephaly.

"Yes," you say. "That's certainly something." You noticed also that once the noise started, all the 'springs' of void-motes immediately fizzled out and didn't start again until the sound ended. You're not sure how to begin investigating the implications of that.

"Now you can harvest energy from within the void," says Polycephaly. "Let's go over how to return to TV Base. Then you won't ever have to worry about running out of energy." Polycephaly sits down, and gestures for you to follow suit. You sit next to them and you both watch the pathways slithering for a short while as Polycephaly composes their thoughts. "…You can imagine a 2D matrix with an X and a Y-axis, can't you?"

"Of course," you reply.

"Good. Be fucking worrying if you couldn't. And you can turn that 2D matrix into 3D with a Z-axis, can't you?"

"Yes, I'm still with you. Three axes perpendicular."

"And can you add yet another axis, still perpendicular to the first three?"

"…No, not really. Intellectually, yes, I get the concept that each new dimension has to be perpendicular to what came before, but I can't imagine how that would actually work. Is that something TVs are supposed to be able to do?"

"No, we're only three-dimensional, after all. But if you had four axes of data, how would you illustrate that?"

"…Well, you'd have to cheat, wouldn't you? By duplicating the matrices. You'd need a copy of the 3D matrix for each value on the fourth axis. You'd have to select the value of the fourth axis first, and that would tell you which matrix to look at. Then you could look up the data along the X, Y and Z-axes."

"Fuuck, that's better than what I was going to say," says Polycephaly. "Yes, you get it. I'm going to steal your explanation for future use. …Anyway, my point is that you have to, I suppose, 'burrow' your path through the void. Not literally burrowing; once you've found the path you need, you can pretty much slide along it. You need to identify which particular angle of attack you need first, then find your way along the nodes from there. Like your explanation of finding the fourth axis value first and picking the matrix you need, then burrowing through that matrix. There are many factors that affect how many layers deep you need to search."

"Wow."

"It's complicated, yes, but it's not insurmountable," says Polycephaly. "You mentioned city underground maps earlier. You can in theory get from any station on one of those to any other, can't you?"

"That's right. Some routes would require a lot of changes and going back on yourself, but you could still do it. Is that the point you're getting at?"

"Exactly so. You can't get lost forever. There will always be a way back, even if you have to take a stupid-ass convoluted route."

"But you can't find the route to somewhere you've never been - is that correct?" you ask.

"Well, I fucking can," says Polycephaly, "Because I am 100% the most authentic teleportation bitch. But you're right, it's very difficult for most. Let's go outside the void for a bit and we can go over how to enter and exit. Come here."

"Back to layer zero," you say.

Polycephaly pulls you into their lap and hefts you into their arms, then stands up. You fly briefly along the void-pathways before materialising in the main hub in TV Base. Polycephaly's arrival pushes some other TV-units aside. "Idiots," says Polycephaly. "You should know better than to stand there." Polycephaly walks over to another part of the hub, and sets you down. "Do you have any idea how to enter the void?" asks Polycephaly. "You've been taken through it a few times - has that given you insight on how to initiate the teleport?"

You think. "It hasn't yet."

"That makes things a little harder," says Polycephaly, crouching down to better talk to you. "I'm so used to it that I don't even think about it, which makes it difficult to break it down and explain how I do it."

"Why don't you show me a few times, like you did for discharging and recharging?"

"Good a fucking place as any to start. Come here again." Polycephaly picks you up and stands again. "Pay attention." Polycephaly initiates a teleport to nowhere in particular, stepping into the void without moving. You're both in the middle of a large clump of converging void-pathways, the zone where they converge a softer grey instead of the usual shining silver.

"This is what the TV Base hub looks like inside the void?" you ask.

"That's right," says Polycephaly. "This is what you'll need to look for if you need to get home." Polycephaly sets you down. "Take some time to familiarise yourself. Don't stand for too long in one spot; it increases the chances that some fucker will collide with you."

You walk around the void-space - it's a bit like a lobby in an expensive-looking but austere building. You turn around and look towards the centre several times, trying to file away in your memory how it looks from multiple angles.

"Phaeton," says Polycephaly after a while. "Find me." Polycephaly vanishes in a cloud of black fog.

This is clearly some kind of test. What does Polycephaly expect you to do? They mentioned they could find you by following the trace of the energy they donated to you - does that work both ways? You mentally interrogate your own teleport-circuit, but it has nothing to say.

You and Polycephaly were talking about how to enter and exit the void, weren't you? You walk to the centre of the 'lobby', where Polycephaly vanished. You think about how it felt when Polycephaly brought you into the void… and you step back in the direction you came.

"Well done," says Polycephaly. You're back in the main hub of TV Base. Polycephaly gives you a celebratory fist-bump. "Now, can you get back in?"

You re-enter the void, and immediately fall over. It'll take some finesse to learn how to navigate this space…

You pick yourself up just as Polycephaly enters the void next to you. "Now you're getting it," says Polycephaly. They have you repeat the steps a couple more times until you're both sure you've got it in hand. "Now," says Polycephaly, "We'll go over how to find the path back home." Polycephaly picks you up, and initiates a teleport to somewhere in layer zero, the 'real world' - you don't recognise it.

"Is this one of your camps?" you ask. Polycephaly told you before that they keep a few places in the wilderness stashed with useful mission supplies.

"No," says Polycephaly. "I trust you to keep my secrets, but the fewer people who know them, the better. This is nowhere in particular. Now…" Polycephaly says as they set you down on the ground, "Step into the void, and I'll follow you."

You reach out with your mind. This feels different from the main hub in TV Base, which you guess is calibrated somehow to make it easier for TVs to enter and exit. Polycephaly watches you curiously, no hint of any impatience.

You move perpendicular from layer zero and into the cascading layers of the void.

You shiver a little from unease and overstimulation. There's a lot going on… There's a lot, but you don't have to deal with all of it at once. (Polycephaly materialises nearby as you take in your surroundings.) You're amused to realise that this reminds you of something from videogames - it's like encountering a room full of buzzsaws and lasers and wondering how the hell you're going to get through this mess, then realising that there's a path through the obstacles and you only have to think about dodging one of them at a time.

"Can you find home?" asks Polycephaly.

"Working on it," you say. You cast your mind around, and turn yourself physically around too. "I'm going to lie down for a bit," you decide. "I'm going to lie on this path and look up at everything above us. Well… I guess 'up' and 'down' are relative terms here."

Polycephaly nods. "You're getting it."

You lie down, and Polycephaly lies next to you. You consider all the pathways in the 'sky'… It's as though you're lying on the inside surface of a sphere, looking towards the centre.

"Polycephaly, what shape is the void?" you ask. "Is that even a question that makes sense to ask?"

"…I suppose, at some level, it's a torus," says Polycephaly. "There are some papers about that in the science library that you might find interesting. I co-authored some of them." (Interesting. You'd asked Polycephaly once what their prototype reactor ran on, and they'd replied "Do I look like a scientist?" But clearly Polycephaly is scientifically-minded to an extent. You guess they're better at purer mathematics and physics than at applied engineering.)

"I think I'm getting the start of an understanding of how to get back to the Base," you say. "I want to get my bearings, so to speak. Can you port me to a couple more random places in the void? If my thinking is on the right lines, I reckon I can triangulate my way."

"Let's try your idea," says Polycephaly, standing and waiting for you to do the same. They port you to another place in the void, and wait for you to observe your surroundings to your satisfaction. (You think Polycephaly is enjoying watching you think about it. It's probably interesting for them to observe someone working all this out for the first time.) That done, Polycephaly ports you to another location. "You done stalling for time?" jokes Polycephaly as you look around in this new location too.

"Actually, yes," you say. "Let's go home."

The energy stored in your teleport-circuit thrums as you jump to another layer of the void and slide along it, steering your way through junctions, snapping your path through ninety-degree angles - until you materialise in the main hub of TV Base.

Polycephaly is already standing there. "You made it," they say, "But you took the most convoluted-ass way possible. It's like multiplying by 100 and dividing by 20 when all you had to do was multiply by 5." Polycephaly reaches down to offer you a fist-bump - you accept. "But seriously, Phaeton, well done. You've still got a lot to learn, but you worked out a way to get back to Base with far less guidance than I was expecting."

It's exhilarating. "It feels… empowering to be incapable of getting lost," you say. It reminds you a little of when GPS in mobile phones became ubiquitous, and you suddenly had a way of getting home from anywhere no matter what. And this way isn't dependent on a device that can run out of battery (or get trodden on or dropped down a hole), and can lose its connection to the satellites in the sky. Now that you can enter the void, regenerate your own energy in there and always get back to TV Base, you really can go anywhere…

"Hell yeah," agrees Polycephaly. "You don't have assigned quarters in this Base yet, do you? Do you want to hang out at mine for a bit?"

"I'd love to!" you say.

Polycephaly teleports you both there - even if you knew the void-route to their quarters, only Polycephaly would be able to open the exit.

"Thank you for not making fun of me about my abilities," you say. "I'm feeling a bit self-conscious about it."

"…I thought I did?" says Polycephaly. Then, more quietly: "You'd tell me if I actually upset you, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, you'd know about it."

"For what it's worth, thank you for always listening when I ask you to not touch my stems."

"Well, I know I hate it when someone touches me unexpectedly," you say. "And when I specifically ask not to be touched somewhere and some fucker does it anyway thinking they're hilarious."

"Yes, you get it," says Polycephaly. They protract and lower all their stems to set their sub-screens down neatly on the floor, then detach all their stems from their sub-screens. You guess Polycephaly doesn't need the increased range of vision inside their own quarters, and it might be nicer to have that weight off their back. Polycephaly shudders and curls their stems like a human having a stretch. "Would you like to watch a movie?" Polycephaly asks. "I have a blu-ray player and a stack of various unsorted discs I've picked up from ruins."

"Let's see what you've got," you reply. Polycephaly indicates where they keep the assorted DVDs and blu-rays, and you have a browse. "Ah, Singin' in the Rain, that's a fun one," you say, picking up the box.

"What is it?"

"It's about some people who decide to ruin a woman's career just because they don't like her very much. And it's a sci-fi about the invention of recorded audio in cinema. …Ah, a production of The Tempest. That's a stage play made into a movie. It's quite funny. Not, like, 'rolling on the floor laughing' funny, but as Shakespeare's plays go it's quite comedic."

"Give me a synopsis?"

"The Duke of Milan is overthrown, and he and his daughter flee to a magical island. The Duke is a magician himself, so that's convenient. He's called Prospero. He bullies the locals into working for him, and then one day the people who overthrew him happen to get shipwrecked on the island, so he's a dick to them until they're sorry."

"So far we have a theme of people being dicks to each other."

"Yup. Twelve Angry Men! That's another movie that was originally a stage play. It's pretty good, in my opinion. It's an unusual movie, because the whole thing is just twelve people talking in a room. It's about a jury in a murder trial, and eleven of them want to declare the defendant guilty just so they can wrap it up and go home already. The twelfth man doesn't want to declare the defendant guilty without examining the case thoroughly, so he makes everyone do that and gradually wins everyone over to the realisation that there's not enough evidence."

"How about this one? Alien versus Predator?"

"No!" you bark. "Do not make me watch Alien versus Predator! It's dogshit and it's an insult to both the parent franchises. If you make me watch it I will throw magnets at you."

"That's me told."

"Do you happen to have the original Predator? It's so good!"

"I don't think I have that one. What's it like?"

"Oh, it's everything action cinema should be! The explosions, the pussy jokes, the way pretty much every line could be a tagline - 'If it bleeds, we can kill it.' …The design of the monster! There's nothing about it I don't like. If you do track down a copy, it's better on DVD than on blu-ray. Blu-ray's too high-res; you can see how nice and clean Arnold Schwarzenegger is. On DVD you can't see the stage make-up, so he looks suitably grimy for a soldier in the jungle."

Eventually the two of you pick The Tempest using a dice-roller app on your tablet. "Can we watch it on my screen?" asks Polycephaly. "It'll be much easier for you to watch my screen than for me to watch yours." Your screen is probably one-eighth the size of Polycephaly's, if that.

"Of course," you say. "But can I try plugging in first just to look at the DVD menus and that? I've never displayed anything external on my screen and I want to know what it's like." Polycephaly agrees, and indicates a raised alcove with a ladder leading up to it. It has furniture in it suitable for normal-sized techfolk - clearly Polycephaly has this for entertaining guests. How cute! Once you've ascended, Polycephaly passes you the blu-ray player and the disc in its case. You get yourself plugged in and load the disc.

Your speakers crackle with puzzlement at the bizarreness of this. It's kind of like how it would have been for your human self to put your face right up against a TV screen, but with the ability to focus on it at such close range. But at the same time your vision of your surroundings hasn't disappeared. You're somehow able to perceive two layers of reality simultaneously without any confusion or overstimulation, in a way that you wouldn't have been able to explain to your human incarnation. "As someone who used to be a human," you say, "This is well weird. It's cool though." It occurs to you that you're perceiving the picture on the screen the right way around, as it would look to an observer, even though one might logically suppose that it would look backwards to you, as if you were looking out at the world through it. But, as you discover when you bring your hand up to your screen, you also can point to your screen and still know which part of the picture you're pointing at, and you're not sure how it is that you know that.

Your curiosity satisfied, you unplug and pass the HDMI cable to Polycephaly. Polycephaly starts the movie and you both settle comfortably to watch, Polycephaly sat on the floor and you sat in the alcove, so your heads are more or less level.

You're not sure Polycephaly quite gets it. They don't laugh at most of the points where you laugh. They do laugh at the scene where characters get chased by bees, though. "I'm not sure what I made of that," says Polycephaly as the credits roll.

Polycephaly picks something random next, which turns out to be an arthouse film about a man transporting a load of sheep on a train. It's also in a language that neither of you know - there are subtitles, but they're in white text against a background that's mostly white sheep. Both of you quickly lose track of the plot and begin making up your own, doing silly voiceovers for the characters.

"Is that sheep shit or sheep cum on the floor?" you say, 'doing the voice' for one of the characters in the film. "Is it both? It's probably both. It's both."

"Your sheep have cum on my shoes, sir. How dare you."

"It is a free sample. I am the Sheep Queef Huffer and I am the purveyor of only the finest sheep cum."

"How appropriate, sir. You have eyes like sheeps' cunts in aspic."

"Look at my sheep, look at my lovely sheep."

"Fuck your sheep."

"What, in public?" Both of you laugh at the stupidness of your improvised plot. The film rolls to an unsatisfying and incomprehensible end.

"So… did the sheep train man succeed in his mission or whatever?" Polycephaly asks. "Wait, were they even real sheep or were they a metaphor for the human condition or some bollocks?"

"Buggered if I could tell," you shrug. "Not one of humanity's finest offerings, that. Oh, I'm getting well tired. I think today's training took it out of me a bit."

"Do you have your charging cable on you?" Polycephaly asks.

"…I don't think I have one," you say. "I don't remember being given one when the medics installed my new body."

"Useless dicksplashes. I'll get you one from supplies- oh. Wait. Did you check your biofuel burner?"

You undo your front buttons to expose your biofuel burner, below your main charging port. You pull back the cover and find a brand new charging cable, still wrapped in twist ties - and a screen-cleaning cloth. "Oh! Nice one!" you say. "And it feels nice not to have that in there."

"Did you… not feel uncomfortable?"

"A bit. But I had no reason to think that wasn't normal. I thought that was just how my plating sat on my frame."

"Grab some books to read while you charge, if you want."

You browse the shelves and the odd floor-stack of books. You settle on a sci-fi novella about a space-faring entomologist and a popular-science book about the mathematics of various things. Meanwhile, Polycephaly grabs a couple of books and a magnifying lens to read the tiny human-sized text, then pulls back a room-dividing curtain to reveal what you assume is their sleeping area. Techfolk don't need soft beds for sleeping on, because their (and your) muscles don't get sore in the same way humans' do. Most of them like to have a space to lie flat when charging for long periods, though, and Polycephaly is clearly no exception. Polycephaly's 'bed' is sensibly elevated so it can have some storage space underneath. Polycephaly lies down on it, their stems spread out and relaxed, and pulls their tie aside to plug in their own charging cable, plugging the other end into a conveniently-located wall socket.

"Climb on up if you want," says Polycephaly. "Or plug in anywhere you like the look of."

Well, if Polycephaly's offering, a recharging-and-reading snuggle club sounds delightful! "I like the look of you," you say. You approach Polycephaly's bed, and they reach out a hand for you to use to pull yourself up to join them. You get yourself plugged into another wall socket and are pleasantly surprised by how it feels - it reminds you of drinking water in your human form, when you were thirsty and water became the most delicious thing in the world. You involuntarily make a pleased cluck of static.

You check your charging cable is firmly in place and then recline against Polycephaly, settling into the space between their body and arm. On a whim, you pick up the end of Polycephaly's tie and pull it over you like a small blanket, to Polycephaly's amusement. Polycephaly gives you a friendly pat then goes back to reading their book. You do the same with yours, alternating a chapter of each, and the two of you relax and recharge like this in companionable silence.

Eventually, you finish one of your books. You're not fully charged yet but you feel a lot more energetic than before and no longer tired. You wonder if Polycephaly feels the same - their batteries must be bigger than yours, but their beefier charging port and cable must have more bandwidth, so you probably charge at much the same rate. You notice that Polycephaly appears to have finished with their own book…

"Polycephaly," you begin, rolling over onto your front to face Polycephaly's main screen, "I really like you."

"Isn't that nice," says Polycephaly. "I'm getting rather fond of you myself." They bring a hand in to stroke your head.

"Could I show you what I can do with the nice blades you gave me?" you ask.

"You want to… spar me?"

"No. I want to fuck you."

"…I would like that very much," replies Polycephaly with a purr, their extended stems twitching slightly with excitement. "Pass me those?" Polycephaly says, indicating your books and the charging cables plugged into the wall. You unplug them both as well as the other end of the cable in your charging port, and pass the items to Polycephaly to set down somewhere out of the way.

"Up you get," Polycephaly says, giving you a hand to help you climb onto them. You lie contentedly on Polycephaly's front, while they stroke your back with one hand and rub your head with the other. "Do you like back-scratches too?"

"Try me?" you ask. Polycephaly scritches your back-plating through your clothes with their fingertips. "Yes, I like this," you say, your speakers playing soft contented static.

Polycephaly strokes the top of your head, then brings their hand in front of your screen. "May I?" they ask you.

"Yes!" you say. You've discovered that screen-pets are nice to receive. Polycephaly rubs yours with their fingertips, making you shiver with pleasure. They mix it up a little, petting the top of your head with their fingers while stroking your screen with a thumb. You trill with delighted static and push your head into their touch. After a little while, Polycephaly takes both their hands back and moves to undo their jacket and shirt more. "Could I do that for you?" you ask.

"Go on," replies Polycephaly. You think you hear a hint of static purr behind their words.

You sit up and start undoing the buttons on Polycephaly's jacket, working deliberately and paying attention to how to tug the reinforced fabric to push the buttons through their holes. Polycephaly starts idly stroking their own charging port in anticipation. You ask: "May I pull back the cover on your charging port?"

"I'll do it. It can get kind of sensitive if you don't do it just right." Polycephaly moves to slide the cover back on their charging port. "Wait. Put your hand on it," Polycephaly instructs. You obey, and Polycephaly uses their hand to guide yours. Your hand trembles a little with anticipation, your servos revving a little harder than you meant them to… "Can you excite it with just your fingers first?" asks Polycephaly quietly. "And I'll tell you when I want you to put your blades in."

"Of course! Would you like to guide my hands again?" You slide your fingers into the two slots of Polycephaly's charging port, and they bring their own hands in to gently guide you.

"Push the connector points," Polycephaly voices in a whisper, "Push them into my frame…"

You squeeze your hands together on either side of the septum dividing the charging slots, wriggling your fingers in the process. Polycephaly writhes hard under you, their stems whipping into sine waves and then curling inwards and trembling. They squeeze their own grip on your arms, harder than you would have been able to take as a human.

"Ohh," Polycephaly whines with desire, "Touch my connector points, touch them, squeeze me, Phaeton, oh please touch me more…" You feel your own plating start to ache pleasantly and you aren't even being touched yet… "Can I… ohh…" Polycephaly's speech processes are dissolving under your touch, as you curl your fingers in their charging port in a come-here motion. "Oh, Phaeton! Can I blade-fuck you?"

"Yes," you say, your own speech clipping as your own desire clouds more of your processes. "Polycephaly, I would love you to."

Polycephaly lets go of your arms and draws their blades. Oh, those look magnificent. You emit a static cluck of admiration. Polycephaly pushes the tips of their blades into your charging port - that's really all that will fit. Polycephaly shudders with enjoyment as you continue to fill their charging port with your fingers, making their blades shiver inside your own charging port and press the connector points inside - in turn making you writhe and excite Polycephaly even further…

Polycephaly's stems rise and curl inwards, encircling you - wrapping you, squeezing you. You can't help transmitting your delight at the sensation, at the pressure rippling around you and massaging your plating, pulling it taut over your frame… "I love this," you manage to sound out verbally, your voice becoming more monotone as your mind diverts resources away from it to better focus on the sensations amping up all over you.

"Phaeton…" says Polycephaly, "I want your blades in me, in me…" They give you a harder squeeze with their stems then slacken them so you can move your arms again.

You remember the spoon that's still in your pocket. As Polycephaly twitches both their blades in your charging-port, you drop the spoon onto their blades, bridging them… and absolutely nothing happens.

"…The fuck's that about?" asks Polycephaly.

"I was expecting it to bridge the circuit and be a nice sensation for both of us," you explain. Damn. You killed the mood as hard as if you'd displayed a picture of Margaret Thatcher on your screen.

"You really think I'd have such shitty circuit insulation? An engineer of your calibre really ought to know better than that." Polycephaly shrugs their blades to make the spoon fall off. "In fact, Phaeton… I think a little punishment is in order for your silliness." Where are they going with this…?

Polycephaly rapidly re-envelops you with their stems before you can react, then in a multi-limbed manoeuvre moves you and themself until they're pinning you down, lying on top of you while supporting themself with their arms, like a sphinx. You're not being squashed enough to be properly crushed, but you're pinned in place under Polycephaly and probably can't get out without their co-operation… and it's delightful. "You want me to let you out, don't you?" teases Polycephaly, looming their main screen over you.

"No," you immediately and joyfully reply, reaching up to stroke Polycephaly as best you can.

"…Phae-ton. Play along." Polycephaly 'clacks' the jaws of their connectors at the end of their stems.

"Oh no. I am trapped. How terrible. What ever will I do." You squirm as if trying to escape, but it's from sheer enjoyment rather than from genuine desire to break away. Polycephaly's tie drops down and the end comes to rest on you.

"How about I let you go if you show me what you can do with those blades?" Polycephaly says verbally, then adds via transmission: "If you actually want me to let you go, I will."

You ping back an acknowledgement of Polycephaly's transmission, then reply audibly: "I'd love to show you that."

Polycephaly brings their stems back in to pin them around you like a cage. Oh. Ohh. This is getting you hyped!

You draw your blades. Polycephaly emits a slight purr of static - you think they approve of seeing their old blades put to use once again. (And now you wonder whom else's charging ports they've been inside…) You raise your arms to reach Polycephaly's charging port, as Polycephaly obligingly repositions themself slightly for a better angle. You drive your blades home… Polycephaly shudders on top of you and arches their back - the increased pressure on your frame is revving you up and making you want more.

Polycephaly's charging port has much wider openings than yours, so your blades can't fill it like your fingers can - you'll have to get clever with them. You slide your hands up and down in opposite directions, so that your blades rake over Polycephaly's connector points as they go. Polycephaly's speakers emit a burst of white noise and they suddenly lower their head over you, almost to the floor. You bring your hands together as much as you can to squeeze Polycephaly's connector points, making them arch their head back up and try to grip the floor under their hands. Oh, you wish those hands were on you instead…

Polycephaly brings one of their stems in, trying to bring its gripping points in to stimulate your own charging port - ohh, you want to feel that in you. Polycephaly is too consumed by lust to steer it in correctly on the first try, instead scrabbling it over your plating until it finds its way home. You arch your back upwards at the pleasant sensation as the two grippers inside your two charging slots squeeze together, pressing into your connector points and pushing them against your frame, while the other two grippers squeeze the outside of your plating. Ohh. This is a different sensation from having a blade in you - you're not sure if you'll cum from this alone, but there's something comforting about this touch that makes you purr your speakers.

You continue letting your blades explore the interior of Polycephaly's charging port, varying your touches against the connector points inside and making Polycephaly writhe as their weight continues to pin you down. There's something about this setup that makes you feel magnificent… you look upwards and behold Polycephaly in all their giant glory, backlit by the ceiling lights. You're trapped and at their mercy, and yet you are the one making Polycephaly squirm and arch.

"I want to feel my blades in you," Polycephaly says, their voice heavy with static. They gather you up in their stems and arms and roll over onto their back, pressing you to them and making you push your blades home harder. Polycephaly presses you down with their hands, squeezing you, and convulses with bliss under you for a while, before letting you back up so they can give you some attention with their own blades. Polycephaly pushes the tip of one of their wrist-blades into your charging port, while using their other hand to grip your back and push you into their blade harder… Ohh. You can't possibly reach Polycephaly's charging port like this, though.

Polycephaly brings their stems in and masturbates their own charging port with them as they continue to push their blade into you and push you into it, making your exo-plating creak delightfully… You reach for the end of Polycephaly's tie and grab onto it, using it as leverage to pull yourself closer and further into Polycephaly's blade. You emit a static grunt of satisfaction at the feeling.

"Oh, Phaeton…" Polycephaly says with static clicks that are the equivalent of breathlessness, "Phaeton, make me your big-bladed bitch… I just want to make you happy…"

You arch into Polycephaly's blade all the more, while they writhe and squirm under you, and you buck harder and faster to make your current spread all over your plating and all down Polycephaly's blade and into their own plating… until you both are spent.

Polycephaly rolls onto their side and gathers you in their arms, pulling you to them as they curl up in the foetal position, wrapping you in a comforting little den of themself. You trill with soft static in pleasure at this treatment, transmitting "oh, comfortable, warm, safe," and making Polycephaly reply with a soft static hiss of appreciation.

"Oh, Phaeton…" says Polycephaly drowsily, "You don't know how much good you've done me."

"Can I pet your scoop?"

"Yes, you absolutely can."

You rub the underside of Polycephaly's 'scoop', moving your hand in a figure of eight shape. You don't think you've ever seen Polycephaly looking this comfortable and at peace… "Polycephaly, you're beautiful," you find yourself saying.

"Oh Phaeton, aren't you sweet. You're rather a pretty little thing yourself," replies Polycephaly. The two of you rest like this for several minutes, silently enjoying each other's company and closeness. "Would you like to spend the night resting here with me?" Polycephaly asks quietly.

"That's a very sweet offer and a lovely idea," you say. "But tonight I want to see my friend Cygnus. They've been through a lot from worrying about me, and I think they'll need some extra love."

"…Why not invite them over?" asks Polycephaly. "If they go to the break room, I'll port over and bring them back here."

"Oh, I'd love that. I hope they say yes." Polycephaly unfurls from you a bit, and you get out your communicator and call Cygnus. "Cygnus, my pretty. I'm with Polycephaly right now. We wondered if you'd like to have a sleepover with us."

"Hello, Phaeton. Hello Polycephaly if you can hear me."

"Hello, little budgie," says Polycephaly. You move the communicator to speaker mode.

"I'm happy to be invited," says Cygnus, "But Fornax beat you to it. I'm spending the night with them."

You transmit to Polycephaly so they have context: "Fornax is Forty-Three-Zero-Four." (Polycephaly nods. They know who that is; Fornax designed Polycephaly's outfits.)

"Hell," says Polycephaly, "Why don't you both come over? I've got room for three little budgies."

"Hello, Polycephaly," you hear Fornax say. (Cygnus must have put their own communicator on speaker.) A brief pause, during which you expect Cygnus and Fornax are conferring via transmission, then Fornax continues: "We'd love to."

"Get your arses to the break room in five minutes?" says Polycephaly.

"Can do," says Cygnus. "Ah'll sithee, Phaeton."

You and Polycephaly make your way to the break room after tidying your clothing. Polycephaly makes you port the pair of you to the main hub, then shows you how to orient yourself in the void to the break room from there. It's not long before Cygnus and Fornax arrive, and Polycephaly scoops you all up to initiate a group-teleport back to their quarters.

"Join me up here?" asks Polycephaly, tapping their bed.

"You know I want to," you reply. Polycephaly sits on their bed and offers you a hand up, then again for Cygnus and Fornax. To your delight, they accept.

You, Fornax and Cygnus pass Polycephaly your charging cables so they can plug them all into the wall sockets. The four of you settle into a cuddle-pile with Polycephaly as the biggest spoon ('the ladle' you think to yourself), and then plug your charging cables into your respective ports. All of you emit soft static crackles that are the equivalent of sighs of satisfaction.

"If you're budgies, what does that make me?" asks Polycephaly.

"A budgie is a little parrot, so you're a big parrot," you say. "You're a hyacinth macaw or a kākāpō or something. The Titan would have to be a Heracles parrot; that's the biggest parrot species that ever existed."

"Why are we budgies?" asks Fornax.

"I'm a budgie because my hair reminded Polycephaly of a bird's display crest," you explain. "Cygnus is a budgie because 'cygnus' means 'swan'. Swan's a bird, budgie's a bird, so basically the same kind of animal. Now you're a budgie by association, I guess."

"Cheep," says Fornax.

"Get tie'd, idiots," says Polycephaly as they pull their tie out of their jacket and throw it over you, Cygnus and Fornax like a blanket. All four of you laugh a bit.

You bask in the warmth and comfort of being surrounded by so many dear friends, including your best buddy Cygnus. You're so relaxed and content… and you're sure everyone else feels the same way. The four of you quietly talk peacefully about nothing in particular as you power down and drift into sleep mode together.