We can love one another, I've been told that it's okay

"Eat the beetroot, eat the beetroot - it makes ya piss pink. Eat the beetroot, eat the beetroot - it makes ya piss… PINK!" you sing to yourself as you harvest beetroots. One of them doesn't come out first try. "Ohh, you're a stubborn little veggie, aren't ya? …Oh no, I'm talking to the beetroot. I clearly need a break."

Your communicator pings - "Oh, right on cue" you comment. You remove one of your gardening gloves so you can properly answer the call. It's from Cygnus, the TV-unit officially called Fifty-Twenty-Two and your greatest friend in the Alliance.

"Cygnus, my pretty, my cathode-rayed cutie, my main machine," you answer the call, "Let me hear your beautiful voice."

"…I am sorry to disappoint, human." The voice is from an unfamiliar TV-unit. Their speech is hesitant; they've evidently been made aware that they should reverse playback on their vocal utterances for your benefit, but they've not had to do that for anyone before.

"Hello, mysterious stranger. Who are you and what have you done with Fifty-Twenty-Two?" Your tone is conversational rather than accusatory. You're mildly alarmed that someone else has Cygnus's communicator, but they don't seem overtly hostile.

"I am Forty-Three-Zero-Four. I am a friend of Niner- I mean Fifty-Twenty-Two. Do not be alarmed, but Fifty-Twenty-Two needs your assistance."

You're instantly alert and ready for action, setting down your bucket of beetroots and pulling off your other gardening glove. "Tell me what to do," you say, "I'm in sector Antlia-Four, currently just outside the base there." (Why did this other unit say 'Niner', you wonder.)

"…I can find a route to that base. How soon can you be at the main hub there?"

Luckily you biked over here (the warehouse where you grow all your food), so can get back to the base in under 5 minutes. You'll need a little more time to skedaddle to your quarters and grab an overnight bag - you keep one packed and ready to go with items you might need while at TV Base that aren't available there. "Under 15 minutes," you reply. "I'll ping Fifty-Twenty-Two's communicator once I'm there - you'll port in and collect me, I assume?"

"That is correct," replies Zero-Four. "I will see you soon." The call ends.

You haul ass (and beetroots) back home and do the necessary for your trip, before heading back to the main hub of the base.

It doesn't take long for Zero-Four to find you - you're the only organic member of the Alliance, at least in this sector. You exchange brief greetings before the TV-unit teleports you.

You don't often visit Cygnus's quarters, much preferring to invite them to yours instead (for one thing, Cygnus can teleport to yours, but you can't do the reverse). There's not a lot there for you. Techfolk don't require soft beds to sleep on, so Cygnus doesn't have one, nor any kind of kitchen for you to prepare a snack or make a coffee.

It makes perfect sense that Cygnus contacted another TV-unit before they contacted you, you tell yourself. TVs can teleport, and you can't. And Cygnus has known Zero-Four for longer than they've known you. But it still does sting a bit that Cygnus didn't contact you for moral support first. You consider Cygnus your dearest and closest friend and it hadn't occurred to you that they might not hold you in the same echelon of their own esteem.

Cygnus is sitting in the middle of their sofa, looking at the floor and trembling a bit. You guess your friend isn't feeling with-it enough to have fetched you themself. You spring to Cygnus's side, saying, "I'm here."

You and Zero-Four sit on either side of Cygnus, and you peel off your backpack so you can set it on the floor and move in to cuddle Cygnus properly. You offer Cygnus a hand to hold, which they accept. Zero-Four and Cygnus do the same thing, Cygnus holding hands with the pair of you.

"Thank you, my dear friends," says Cygnus. "I feel a little better for having both of you here."

You make an involuntary sad clucking sound at the state of Cygnus. You want to wrap them up and hold them safe from all the dangers of the world.

"I had a close encounter with a skibidi while on patrol," Cygnus explains, "…I feel shaken and I need your support."

"You've got it," you say, cuddling close to Cygnus, pressing the side of your head against their shoulder. (You find yourself taking deep calming breaths in an unconscious attempt to encourage Cygnus to follow suit - then remember that of course techfolk don't breathe.) You bring in your free arm to stroke Cygnus's arm that's holding your hand.

The other TV-unit, Zero-Four, makes a soft buzzing sound through their monitor-speakers, drawing Cygnus's attention. Cygnus turns their head to face Zero-Four and the two TVs gently touch the upper bands of their head-casings together. It's very sweet… but you find yourself prickling with jealousy that someone else is cuddling with your dearest friend. You're cross with yourself for even thinking it, especially in Cygnus's time of need. Aren't you happy for Cygnus that they have two dear friends they can call upon, and that they get to cuddle with both of you at the same time? You are. You are happy for them, you tell yourself.

Cygnus breaks away after a little while, to return to looking at the floor. "I'm much better as an administrative agent now than as a field agent," Cygnus laments, "…I used to be so fearless - I would effortlessly dispatch skibidis with blade and with screen."

You wish you could have seen that!

Cygnus continues: "That was earlier in the war. I was shocked by how much better-armed and competent the skibidis are now. …I had one job, I should have been able to deal with it. Instead, I got grazed by its projectiles and froze in fear. My mission partner had to port us both out, and send in another squad to finish what I couldn't." Techfolk don't actually cry as such, but Cygnus's voice is becoming more shaky and pathetic-sounding.

"I'm so sorry, my friend," you say, nuzzling the side of Cygnus's head casing. You give the side of their head a kiss. "Cygnus, dear heart." You press yourself into your friend in a way that you hope conveys how much you want to keep them safe and comfort them and protect them. (You're aware of Zero-Four on Cygnus's other side doing something similar in their own way.)

"Are you hurt?" asks Zero-Four. Dammit, why didn't you think to ask that?

"…No," replies Cygnus, "I got triaged and debriefed post-mission, as usual. Only basic maintenance needed."

You pet Cygnus soothingly and ask: "Who sent you out on a mission so unprepared? It's their fault for not properly briefing you."

Cygnus replies quietly and hesitantly: "…It's my own fault. I ignored the pre-mission briefing because I assumed I could handle it; I'd never had problems facing skibidis before. …I feel I've let the faction down. We've maintained zero casualties since the war began, because we practice utmost caution. Until I didn't."

Ohh, you've made it worse. Cygnus must feel rotten now - they must have heard the rising anger in your voice, ready to tear into whoever was responsible for this poor planning. They must also have already had a severe reprimand from whoever co-ordinated the mission too. You feel crumpled with sorrow on Cygnus's behalf.

Zero-Four pulls Cygnus into an embrace and holds them close, letting Cygnus recline on them. You disengage your hands to let the two TVs get into position, then you move in so you can rub Cygnus's back. You know it's only because Zero-Four pulled them into position (plus the fact that it makes more sense for Cygnus to lean on their sturdy techfolk friend than on their fragile meatbag one), but it still sort-of feels that Cygnus is turning away from you. You remind yourself not to dwell on such things while your friend needs help.

"Human, come in closer," says Cygnus. "I want to feel you're there too."

Your heart melts at Cygnus's request! You press yourself into Cygnus with furious affection (making Zero-Four adjust their arms slightly to move out of your way. The back of your mind hope that Zero-Four isn't being crushed by having two bodies leaning on them, but you remind yourself they haven't any breath to suffocate).

You and the mysterious stranger Zero-Four hold Cygnus like this for some time, wrapping your mutual friend in your presence and doing your best to make them feel loved.

"Cygnus, buddy, will you introduce us?" you ask after a while. "Or are you not feeling up to it right now?"

"Human, this is Zero-Four. They are my ex," Cygnus replies. (Zero-Four pats Cygnus's back as they speak, and gives a friendly nod to you in greeting.)

That's surprising. You didn't know Cygnus had any exes. But then, why is it surprising? It's not unusual for people to have those. Maybe it surprises you because you aren't on still-friendly terms with any of yours. ('Weren't', you correct yourself - they'll all be dead now anyway. Ha.)

Cygnus continues: "We decided we weren't a good match romantically. We're better as friends. Zero-Four, this is my human friend, official auxiliary to the faction and unofficial engineer to the Titan."

You feel a burst of pride at how Cygnus is proud of your achievements.

"Hello there," says Zero-Four, looking at you over Cygnus's back. "Do you have a name other than 'human'?"

"Not needed one yet," you say, "It's not as though there are other humans in the Alliance for me to get mixed up with. If another one comes along, we'll decide what to call each other then."

Zero-Four seems surprised by your lack of a specific handle, but they're evidently not going to argue. "…That is fair. As you have worked with the Titan, you will have seen my work also. I am a tailor - I designed the Titan's current outfit."

Oh, you're a big fan of their work! You're warming a little to Zero-Four already. "It's nice to meet you," you say, "I'd like to ask you more about that some time, under better circumstances."

Cygnus emits a short pulse of pleased-sounding static. They must be happy that you and Zero-Four are getting along.

You remember something from earlier. You ask Zero-Four: "I think I heard you call Fifty-Twenty-Two 'Niner'. Is that a nickname?"

"Yes," replies Zero-Four. "The sum of their serial digits is nine. Why do you call them 'Cygnus'?"

"It's for the 'Twenty-Two' part. The shape of the numerals reminds me of two little swans. Cygnus is the genus name of swans. …That's rather sweet, that we both nicknamed our friend based on their serial, but in completely different ways."

Cygnus disengages from Zero-Four so they can sit up normally. They do so, then pull both you and Zero-Four into an embrace with Cygnus in the middle. You pet Cygnus's aerial gently.

"…My dear friends," says Cygnus after a while, "Thank you both for being here for me, even though my entire situation is my fault."

"What else are friends for?" replies Zero-Four.

You squeeze against Cygnus in a way that you hope shows how you feel.

The three of you cuddle like this for some time, until you and Cygnus realise that you're starting to nod off. You want to snuggle Cygnus all night long, of course, but you really should go back home and sleep in a proper human-made bed - Cygnus insists upon it for the sake of your well-being. They have Zero-Four port you back home. You tell yourself that this is the most sensible course of action and you're not being kicked out. You'll have to comfort yourself with the knowledge that you're leaving Cygnus in good hands.

---

"We've had this conversation before, haven't we?" Cygnus asks you. You're both in your quarters after work, Cygnus having taken you home early after everyone noticed that you were hopelessly unable to devote your attention to work.

"Something is wrong. I can tell," continues Cygnus, "And you don't feel able to ask for help, do you? Just like last time." Cygnus holds their arms out for a hug.

You step forward, and Cygnus wraps you in their embrace. Your breathing sharpens in your throat as you try not to cry.

"Are you pining for the Titan again? Is that it?" asks Cygnus.

"No… Well, yes. I always am," you say jokingly, but there's no mirth in it. "But that's not it this time."

"Let's sit down," says Cygnus, ending the hug so you can both walk over to your sofa.

Cygnus reclines lengthwise on the sofa and pats their chest, inviting you to rest on them. You gratefully do so, climbing onto Cygnus's frame as they gather you in their arms and pull you in close.

Your breath is becoming more ragged and your face is beginning to ache from the effort of grimacing to hold back tears. You consciously relax your face to ease the ache, letting the tears drop.

"Is this crying?" asks Cygnus.

"Yes." Your voice is wavering.

Cygnus squeezes you gently. Your friend knows what to do with you - you'd told them once what you wanted them to do if they found you crying, which was to hold you gently and let you get on with it.

("What is the purpose of crying?" Cygnus had asked you.

"Two things:" you'd explained. "One, it's a social signal. Humans are pack animals, and crying signals 'your pack member is in distress and needs help.' Secondly, it prevents us from acting in the heat of the moment, in anger or despair. Crying tires us out. We usually need a nap afterwards, and we always think more clearly after a bit of sleep.")

You snuggle into your dear friend as if trying to burrow into them, so grateful that they remembered what you'd said. (You hate it when people make a fuss and say 'Oh, what's wrong, what's wrong' and try to cajole you into telling them when you're clearly not ready to.)

Cygnus moves a hand in to cover the back of your head. "Is this what you need?"

"eah." You're moved to sobs by your friend's thoughtful tenderness, and you bury your face in Cygnus's pea coat. The smell comforts you.

"Should I just keep doing this and wait for you to say if you need anything else?"

"eah," you say between gasps.

Cygnus rubs their thumb against your head. "…Shall I play some videos you like?"

"nah."

"Of course. You did say you'd tell me if you needed anything else." Cygnus rubs your back with their other hand. "Just cuddles for now?"

You shudder out a sigh. "eah."

Cygnus gently clasps you, one hand on your back, riding your breathing, and one hand cradling your occiput. Their communicator pings. Cygnus digs it out of their pocket, saying: "One moment, I'm making sure it's not an emergency. …Shut up, you can wait." Cygnus mutters to their communicator, before they flick it over to 'emergency contact only' mode, then deposit the communicator on the floor by the sofa. They return their hand to your back and say: "I'm here for you, buddy." (You're charmed that they've picked up that term of endearment from you. Cygnus had asked you once why you used it, and you'd explained you were fond of using it because "it's a cute-sounding word, like bunny or budgie, and it derives from 'booty-fellow', meaning someone you share treasure with.")

Cygnus scritches your head with the hand that's currently cradling it. You sob harder at the loveliness of the sweet gesture, prompting Cygnus to immediately stop and ask: "Was that the wrong thing to do?"

"is fine," you say tearfully. "just very sad. need to cry it out. please keep holding me. it helps."

"I'll hold you as long as you need."

You rub your face into Cygnus's coat some more as your friend squeezes you gently with one arm and scruffles your head with the other hand.

You try to see if you can breathe normally yet, and find that your breath hitches and then forces its way out with a wretched piteous sound.

"Poor human," comments Cygnus softly, "I've never heard such a tragic sound." Cygnus strokes your head. "You told me before that crying is tiring. Would you like me to move you to the bed?"

You exhale raggedly, preparing to speak. "Please."

"Just rest. I've got this." Cygnus simultaneously swings their legs off the sofa while gathering you up in their arms to carry you. (You always marvel at the power of their mechanical strength!)

Your friend carries you to your bed and lies you on it, handing you the corner of your blankets to pull over you. You gladly do so, feeling more secure under the covers. (You've kicked off your slippers but you're otherwise still clothed. You don't care. It's only for a nap.)

Cygnus sits on the bed next to you. "You want leaving alone to sleep, or do you need more cuddles?"

"Please cuddle me."

Cygnus pauses to remove their shoes, then lies alongside you. They let you snuggle against them, then wrap themself around you. You push your face into your friend's chest; Cygnus's cue to incline their head to gently trap yours between their chest and the underside of their monitor casing. You're grateful for the face-privacy the gesture affords you. Cygnus plays you some soft static as you continue to let your sadness flow out of you as tears and mournful, harrowed-sounding cries.

…You awake, alone. You notice that Cygnus has left a glass of water and some snacks on your bedside table. Oh, what a buddy. Your mouth tastes nasty, as always happens when you sleep without having cleaned your teeth first. You sit up and drink some of the water to get rid of the taste.

Cygnus re-enters the room, carrying their tablet, presumably having heard you stirring. They sit on the bed next to you, minimising apps on their tablet. "How are you feeling, human?" they ask softly.

You put down the water glass and take a deep breath, then speak. "Better. Still awful. But better."

Cygnus removes their shoes again so they can properly sit on the bed with you.

"Were you waiting here all this time?" you ask.

"Not a problem," says Cygnus, brandishing their tablet. "I got some work done." They put the tablet to sleep and put it down on the bed out of the way. "Will you tell me what made you so sad?" Cygnus asks as they reach to hold your hand.

You gratefully hold hands, and Cygnus rubs the back of your hand with their thumb while you compose your thoughts. After a while, you say quietly: "I could have lost you."

Cygnus squeezes your hand. "I'm sorry I made you think that way. I got scared at the time, but I think in the retelling I really overplayed how dangerous it was. I was never in mortal danger."

"…It made me think of it, though. I realised how much I rely on you and how helpless I'd be if I did lose you. It sent me into a spiral of panic and worry."

Cygnus scoots closer so they can hold you properly. "That seems an irrational worry. You were far from helpless before I met you."

"…I'd be devastated if I lost you. I love you."

"I love you, human. You won't lose me. We're both here to look after each other. Oh human, did I really scare you so much?"

Your eyes prickle with more tears. "It wasn't just that. I'm sad about something else also, but I shouldn't burden you with it. It's my problem to sort out."

"…Would you tell me anyway? You're my dear friend - it's my responsibility to help you with your burdens, just as you did with mine." Cygnus squeezes you gently.

"I'm a selfish hypocrite-"

"That is no way to talk about my dear friend," Cygnus interrupts, squeezing and comforting you some more.

"Oh, Cygnus, you're a gem. I love you."

"I know. I love you too." Cygnus brings their head in to gently touch their top band of casing against the side of your head. "What's made you think such things about yourself?"

"…I'm jealous of your ex. I know we're informal fuckbuddies, but I realised I want you all to myself. That's unfair of me, and that's entirely on me and not fair to you. That's the selfish part. And I'm a hypocrite because we're already not exclusive - I've fucked the Titan and the Imperator… and the Imperator's guards. I realised I want you all to myself BUT I want the freedom to fuck around. That's hypocritical. None of it's your fault. It's something I need to sort out on my own."

Cygnus rubs your back. "It's something you have to solve, yes. But not on your own. I'll help you through it."

"…What did I do to deserve you, my friend?"

"You've been a good friend to me. …Bring it in." Cygnus pulls you into an enveloping hug and runs a hand up and down your spine.

You sigh happily, soothed by the touch. "I think I'm sad about a great many things. Just one of them wouldn't be enough to make me cry, but they've all stacked up and I feel… attacked."

"Will you tell me any more of them?"

"I have… feelings about being the last human. Or potentially the last human."

"Entirely understandable." Cygnus gives you a gentle squeeze and rubs your back some more. "…I'm sorry, my human friend. I can't imagine your pain. I wish I could do more for you."

"I'm kind of done being sad about human extinction. For all practical purposes, we're already extinct. It's done. I'm spared the pain of false hope. There might be a few more of us across the world, but I highly doubt there are enough for a viable population. We were already living on borrowed time in that regard. Seventy thousand years ago, the human population was reduced to around 1,000 individuals after the eruption of Mount Toba. That means all modern humans are descendants of those thousand. We're actually less genetically diverse than chimpanzees, even though there are - were - thousands of millions more of us. If you keep pushing a species through near-extinction bottlenecks, it'll keep losing more and more genetic diversity."

Cygnus pets your back as you speak, and softly buzzes their speakers to show they're listening still. You continue: "I guess… I'm not so much sad that we fell as how easily we fell. Before the apocalypse, I lived through the Covid-19 plague. Well, I say 'through' it but it never really stopped… until the skibidi plague stopped it by killing or transforming all vectors, I guess."

"Was this Covid-19 plague anything like the Skibidi plague?"

"Symptom-wise, not at all. It was a disease that damaged the heart, lungs and brain - it weakened the immune system and caused memory loss. Spread through the air. Terrifying illness."

"It sounds it."

"And at first, I was so hopeful about humanity's reaction. I knew many would die, but I also knew - or so I thought - that everyone would rally and rise to the occasion, and do what needed to be done. It was amazing how quickly the first vaccine was developed. Vaccines normally take about a decade to create, because a lot of that time is spent acquiring funding. That part was fast-tracked, and we got to see how fast science researchers can actually work when they're given the opportunity to. I was confident that our government would do what they had to to stop the spread of the plague, and everything would be over within a year."

"And I take it that didn't happen?"

"No. My country's government's response was worse than useless. Not just my country, either. Some countries got their shit together, but many didn't, even though we had the sensible countries to look to for a model. Millions died, pointlessly. And it wasn't even a case of saying 'well, we dropped the ball this time, but we've learned from this and we're fully prepared for the next airborne plague.' Nothing was done to prepare for the next plague, or even for the next wave of covid. No new regulations were put in place for building ventilation or anything else that could have helped. And… I think that honestly broke me a little. To see our government, who are supposed to serve the populace, abandoning us in our time of need. And it wasn't a population united against a corrupt government either. Covid made me realise just how stupid and selfish many humans are. They refused to do the bare minimum to protect their fellow humans, not even wear masks in enclosed spaces. Some even refused to get the vaccine."

"…That makes no sense. Why wouldn't they take the vaccine?"

"Stupid and selfish, as I said. I was never the same after that. It broke me, like I said - I'd always thought most humans were basically like me. I'm not perfect, but I'd like to think I at least try to do what is right, based on the best information I can gather-"

"I think you do," Cygnus says as they snuggle you.

"And I thought everyone was like that too. And I was wrong. …No wonder our species fell to the skibidis so easily."

Cygnus presses you to them. "Oh, human. Oh, my poor, dear friend… I'm so sorry. I wish I could do more for you."

"You're going to make me cry again," you sniffle a bit as you push yourself into Cygnus. "You're so kind to me. This is why I got so upset at the thought of losing you. You're the sweetest friend I've had since the apocalypse and probably before, too. I love you so."

The two of you cuddle fiercely for a time, as you cry quietly, this time with gratitude.

Cygnus speaks first: "I'll do better by you. I won't make the same mistake I did by going recklessly into missions without reading the briefing."

You squirm into Cygnus a bit more.

Cygnus continues hesitantly: "…As we're talking about… doing better by each other… can I bring up something that's been on my mind?" Cygnus squeezes you in an apologetic flinch, then says: "No, that was an unkind question. It's not a good time right now."

"No," you say, "Lay your burdens upon me. We'll both teach the other to be a better friend."

"I'd like you to stop touching my aerial without asking. You did used to always ask first. I'd like you to go back to that." Cygnus sounds worried to be bringing this up.

"…That's a fair request. I think I took your continued permission as blanket consent. That wasn't negotiated, and I'm sorry."

"Entirely forgiven." Cygnus rubs your back affectionately. "I should have said something sooner. I do like it when you pet my aerial, so it always felt silly to bring it up."

"Relatable," you say, "Let's try to be better about things like this. We'll bring things up like this as they happen instead of letting them build up."

"Agreed."

"May I pet your aerial now?" you ask.

"Please do."

You reach up and stroke Cygnus's monopole aerial from tip to base with the back of your fingers, before gently rubbing the base with thumb and forefinger, resting the remainder of your fingers on Cygnus's head-casing. Cygnus emits soft clicks of pleasure as you rub your thumb up and down the aerial a bit.

"That'll do," says Cygnus after a while, nodding their head to encourage you to disengage your hand. You do so. "Thank you," Cygnus says. "…Can I say something else? But I don't want to overwhelm you. This one can wait."

"Tell me, buddy," you say, "We might as well."

"I'd like to call you something other than 'human'. I know you said you didn't mind being called it because it's 'accurate', but… I'd like to do you the dignity of calling you by something other than your species label. Because you're my friend, not just a specimen."

"What did you want to call me? Did you want to give me a nickname, like I gave you one?"

"I hadn't thought that far. …What did you used to be called, before you joined the Alliance?"

"Before the apocalypse? That name is gone. I threw it away on purpose. It was so hard being that person who lost everything, so I changed my narrative. I gave myself a new name, and took on a new identity - I turned myself into a different person, one who'd always lived in the wastelands." Cygnus is listening raptly as you continue: "And then I put away that name when I joined the Alliance. I'd had to become quite brutal and feral under that persona, and I wanted to squash that persona and start again with another slate. I wanted to become someone more gentle again. But I didn't want to go back to my first name either. That person is dead. Now I am simply the nameless human."

"I see. So, under your narrative, you've never had a name in this phase?"

"Yes, that's right." You're pleased by how well Cygnus gets you.

"I'd love to call you by a proper name. Is there someone you admire, maybe? That we could name you after?"

You think for a moment. "You know, when I nicknamed you 'Cygnus' I was thinking of real-life swans. But your name also appears in ancient human myths, from the Mediterranean zone. In one myth, Cygnus was the lover or close friend of Phaeton. Phaeton was the offspring of Helios, the personification of the Sun. Phaeton tried to drive Helios's sun-chariot, but lost control of it and died in a river. The mythical Cygnus spent days retrieving Phaeton's bones, and the gods - that's various personifications of the universe in many human cultures - were so moved by Cygnus's devotion that they turned Cygnus into a swan. And then turned the swan into a constellation. Because that's the kind of thing ancient Mediterranean gods do. There are other mythical figures called Cygnus, but their stories aren't as nice, I don't think."

"So you're thinking of choosing Phaeton as a name? Because that was the name of my namesake's close friend?"

"Yes - let's give it a try and if I hate it, we can always workshop something else."

"But are you sure you want to choose a name based on mine? You're your own person."

"You asked if there was someone I admired, didn't you?"

Cygnus takes a moment as the implication sinks in, and then wrings their hands bashfully, before pulling you into a fierce hug. "All right… Phaeton."

You're pleased by how the name sounds coming from Cygnus. You could get used to this! The two of you cuddle more, Cygnus rubbing your back and you nuzzling the side of their head.

After a while, you venture: "I've been thinking some more, about how I need to get over my feelings of jealousy. And now I remember telling you, that second time I fucked the Titan, that you have a unique role in my life, one that the Titan isn't competing for. And I think that's what I need. I need a unique role in my potential partner's life - I won't compete and I won't take someone's place. If you tell me that I and Zero-Four have unique roles in your life and we're not competing for your affections, I'll believe you."

"…That's exactly right." Cygnus says, stroking your back. "I'll always be a bit sweet on Zero-Four even though we're ultimately better off not being romantically involved. They're important to me. But as you put it, you do have a unique role in my life. You're very precious to me, my dear friend… Phaeton."

"My dear Cygnus!" You squeeze your beloved fuckbuddy, your sweetest friend, your Cygnus. You exhale exaggeratedly in contentment and satisfaction. "Go forth and fuck anyone you like, with my blessing."

"I think that's more your thing." Cygnus's reply is affectionate.

"You know," you say, "Zero-Four does seem lovely. Maybe we can both love you. And if we can't love you enough, maybe we can find ourselves yet another cute and charming TV."

"What, the Titan and the Imperator aren't enough for you?" jokes Cygnus. "What will defeat the TV faction first - the skibidis, or the human fucking us all to exhaustion?"

You both laugh, hugging each other. (There's no way Cygnus would have said anything that silly back when you first met - you've definitely had an effect on them!)

"Speaking of the Titan," says Cygnus, "I really think you should pay them a visit soon. I know seeing them always makes you feel better, and the Titan enjoys your company too - everyone knows it."

You knew it too - but it still makes you feel a jolt of pride every time you hear it, as fierce as if someone actually struck you in the sternum. It's unusual for Cygnus to suggest that you visit the Titan, though… Every time you've visited them, it's been as a favour to you or because you were required for a task in the hangar.

"Is it really in my power to decide when I visit, though?" you say, "I've never been except by invitation. …Hang on, is that something I can do now, because I'm an auxiliary?"

"In theory, yes - but in practice, I've discovered a slight snag with your auxiliary record, which means it hasn't gone 'live' yet. It's a quick fix, but we'd need to port to my office so I can use my workstation. Could we do that this evening? We'll get your record fixed and then you should be able to visit the Titan if you still want to."

"I absolutely do want to! I just need some time to make something to eat first."

"I made you a mushroom risotto while you were asleep, if you want that," says Cygnus.

"…You did what?"

"Oh no, was that a bad idea?"

"It was fantastic! You cooked for me? Oh, I could honestly shag you right now… I didn't know you cooked. Since when do you do that?"

"This was the first time. I picked something that looked easy to make and that you had the ingredients for."

"Bloody hell, Cygnus, you are absolutely the sweetest unit the Alliance ever produced. …Just checking, you did use my knives to chop the veggies, right?" You're not keen on the idea of eating food prepared with Cygnus's wrist-blades, which probably aren't rated for food safety.

"I did indeed. Mine aren't designed for cutting anyway - they're weapons for stabbing."

"Good show," you say. You head to the kitchen to plate your risotto.

"How is it?" asks Cygnus once you've sat down and eaten some.

It's the most amateurish and under-seasoned risotto you've ever had, and it's slightly burnt on the bottom. But your dear friend made it with love, so you eat it with genuine enjoyment.

"I won't lie and say it's the best I've ever tasted," you reply, "But it's adequate for my nutritional needs. Sincerely: thank you for making this for me. I really appreciate the gesture." You eat it quickly - you're hungrier than you realised, not having eaten anything except a couple of snacks since you left work early today.

Once you're done, you freshen up a bit before fetching your bag of home-away-from-home bits that you might need in TV Base, and Cygnus ports you both over there.

In Cygnus's office, your friend explains as they plug their workstation cables into their head-casing: "There's a slight snag with your auxiliary record. We never considered that anyone besides another techfolk would be made a TV auxiliary, so there are some fields that don't apply to you. We can skip most of them, but the serial field is required. I can enter a new faction, so we don't have to miscategorise you as a camera or a speaker, but we'll still need to allocate you a serial. Is there a number that's significant to you that we might use?"

You think for a bit. "I've got an idea brewing. Can you find me a periodic table to look at?"

Cygnus pauses while they search, their mind interfacing with the Alliance databases. After a short while, Cygnus picks up their tablet, to which they've sent the data they found. They hand you the tablet so you can zoom and pinch your way around the periodic table.

"You're fond of that thing, aren't you?" asks Cygnus.

"I am indeed - I still maintain it's one of humanity's most elegant achievements." (You'd explained to Cygnus before that you like the periodic table a lot because of its compact display of information. "With just this table, you have access to literally thousands of pieces of data", you'd said.) You say to Cygnus as you look around the diagram on their tablet: "I gave you a nickname based on swans' genus name. My own genus name is Homo, from the Latin word. I believe you can spell that with chemical abbreviations - and I'm right. That's hydrogen, oxygen, and molybdenum. Those have atomic numbers of 1, 8 and 42. Can we do eighteen-forty-two or is that taken?"

"By definition, no - I'm allocating you a unique faction called 'Human', and serials are unique within each faction; they don't have to be unique across the entire Alliance. We didn't foresee that any non-techfolk could become auxiliaries to the TV faction, but we did take into account that one day other factions might arise. …I can tell you now that there currently aren't any TVs with the serial 1842, so you needn't worry about a clash there. Is that the number you want to go with?"

You think it over. You could have any number, since you're the first in your 'faction' - maybe you should ask Cygnus if you can have the same as theirs. That's maybe a bit too sickeningly cutesy. Eighteen-Forty-Two will do fine, and it's the right amount of cute for your tastes - your serial is numbers generated from the name of an organic genus, and Cygnus's name is the inverse. You and your friend mirror each other without being direct copies. "Yes," you affirm. "Let's go with it."

Cygnus turns their attention back to their workstation. "Well, your auxiliary record is officially accessible by the Alliance now. Your designation is Phaeton Eighteen-Forty-Two."

"I love it!" you exclaim sincerely. It's a clean new identity, entwined with your best friend's, to officially designate this chapter of your life.

"Oh, this is going to make things so much easier. I can breeze you through so many procedures now… That includes visiting the Titan's hangar."

"That's great to hear. …You seem oddly keen that I should go there, though," you reply, "There's something you're not telling me, isn't there?" Your question is affectionate. "A diplomat of your calibre should really be more subtle than that. But I'm always down to visit the Titan, you're right. Let's head on over and see how long it takes me to get kicked out."

You and Cygnus head over to the Titan's hangar. To your great amusement, Cygnus is registered as your guest for the purposes of the visit. The Imperator had warned you that your status as an auxiliary didn't make you an honorary TV, but it does seem you can go almost anywhere in the faction now.

The Titan reclines in a corner of the hangar, in a relaxed-looking state, with the one exception of their arm resting on an elevated walkway, accessible to the engineers currently doing something to an open panel on the Titan's forearm. You wave hello to the Titan, who nods their main screen at you in greeting, and you head over to see what the engineers are doing.

"Hello, human, Fifty-Twenty-Two," says one of the engineers. "Human, will you help me extricate this servo?"

"I will," you reply, moving in to do so with the tool that the engineer hands to you. "May I ask why?" you continue. "It looks pristine still - does it need replacement?"

"It probably doesn't," replies the engineer. "We're replacing a random selection of servos ahead of time, so that we can examine the removed ones and see how much wear they're taking."

You and the engineers chat pleasantly as you carry out your task. Cygnus takes their leave for now.

Once the engineers have re-sealed the Titan's arm panels (and the Titan has rolled its coat sleeve back down), the Titan says "I think you know what comes next, human," and moves their hand in for you to step onto. You gladly do so!

The Titan brings its other hand in and gently cups both hands to hold you safely, before bringing you in near its main screen.

"It's so lovely to see you again, boss," you say. "Am I keeping you from your maintenance?"

"I currently do not need any," says the Titan. "I am being kept in a state of T-15 - able to be deployed at any time with a maximum of 15 minutes of notice. I am sure that this action-" the Titan inclines its head to indicate you, "-is compatible with maintaining this state." The Titan strokes you with a finger, making you squeak in delight. The Titan continues: "I saw the recent status report on your auxiliary designation. Do I call you 'Phaeton' now?"

"I'd like that, boss. …Now you've got me curious. Do you have a serial? Or do you not need one because you're the Titan?"

"Yes to both - it's not engraved on my casing, as you've seen, but I do have one, officially. I have the reserved serial 'Triple-Zero-Two'." ("Just one little swan," you think.) The Titan continues: "The Imperator is 'Triple-Zero-One', of course. The one-digit serials are all held in reserve, though so far only the Imperator and I have them. Polycephaly currently has the only two-digit serial; theirs is Double-Zero-Ten."

You think back to your earlier conversation with Cygnus about assumed permissions. "…Is it okay that I call you 'boss'? I started doing it when I met you because I thought it suited you, and I never checked that it was okay with you."

"I insist you keep calling me that. I picked up your intention with it right away and I like it a lot." The Titan displays a pleased emoticon. "I appreciate you checking."

"Anything for you, boss," you reply, prompting a soft buzz from the Titan's speakers, as if purring.

"If that's so," says the Titan, "Let me do this with you." The Titan strokes you with a finger once again, more firmly this time, encouraging you to lie down on your front on the Titan's palm. You gladly do so, lying down and letting the Titan's touch guide you into settling into the leather-like material of its glove. The Titan then strokes you with its whole hand, sandwiching you gently in its hands in the process.

"You're a soft thing…" remarks the Titan. "No corners or edges at all. Barely any hard parts on you."

You wheeze with delight, every fibre of tension melting away from you as if the Titan's hand is sweeping them away. This is the ultimate stress-reliever! …Was this why Cygnus wanted you to come here?

"Do you recall when last we spoke?" asks the Titan as it eventually stops stroking you, "I told you about how my consciousness has diverged greatly from my original form, and how I did not believe my current form as a war engine can experience love as my former self did."

"I do remember," you say, sitting up on the Titan's palm to look into its face. (You recall learning that the Titan used to be a normal TV unit before its mind was transplanted into its new body to be the seed of its new expanded consciousness.)

"…And you doubtless remember that I fucked Sixteen-Sixty-Eight?" The Titan is referring to its lead engineer. (You'd got to watch. It was very hot.)

"Absolutely… and I remember that you declared your love for Sixty-Eight. It was one of the sweetest things I've ever seen and I'm sincerely happy for you both! …Are you saying that you've changed your mind about whether you can feel love?"

"Yes… fucking Sixty-Eight unlocked something deep within me that I had had no idea was buried there. Something that had never before had a chance to activate, because nobody, myself included, knew that it was supposed to be there. I realised… that Sixty-Eight is my dearest and best beloved, but I still love each and every TV-unit. How can I not? I am their Titan."

Oh, that is achingly sweet. You feel happy just hearing it! You think the Titan was probably still correct about its consciousness not experiencing the same kind of love as a normal unit - what it's describing sounds like something else altogether, something that only a mind as colossal as a Titan's can feel. You press yourself into the dear Titan's hand. It brings in a finger to stroke you - you intercept the incoming digit and hug it instead, to the Titan's amusement.

"Boss, that sounds like such a happy revelation," you say. "How wonderful it always is to uncover a truth about yourself, one that makes other things slot into place."

The Titan extricates its finger from your embrace, then displays an approving emoticon at your assessment. "And now I can fight harder than I have ever done before," it explains, "Because now I fight with utmost love for my faction as well as with hatred for my enemies."

"So," you say, "It appears the way to unlock a Titan's true potential is to fuck it. This is useful intel for the other factions. …I recall I did say to Sixty-Eight 'What do you expect if you build a machine that's clearly designed to fuck and then never fuck it?' It seems time proved me right."

The Titan displays a dubious emoticon, then quickly changes it to an amused one. "That is not where I was going with this at all. But I should not have expected anything else from my lustiest engineer."

The Titan pauses to use its free hand to ferry a couple of its engineers from a gantry to inside its core chamber. You look down and notice there are already a few units packed in there, enjoying a cuddle-pile.

"The point I was getting to," says the Titan, bringing its hand back in to stroke you with a finger once more, "is that I am very fond of you, and I like you very much. I hope you knew that already."

"I remember you telling me, but I loved hearing it again!" you say.

"Phaeton, my loyal engineer… my dear friend," says the Titan. You melt. The Titan affects an emoticon on its screen so it can close its 'eyes' solemnly. It continues: "…Does that count as love? If I were still a normal unit, I would probably say I loved you. The way I perceive love is different now, and I don't remember enough about how it felt to say if this is the same. …But you are very important to me, my newest engineer… and my softest and lustiest one. You deserve to be loved. I want to say I love you. I want to be able to say I love all of my engineers. I choose to do that."

The Titan attempts to stroke you with its finger, and you once more grab it in a fiercely loving hug. You're silently weeping tears of joy.

"I very much appreciate you and your love," says the Titan, "And I am choosing to say it back. …I love you, Phaeton. You're not a TV but I think I have enough space in my Titan frame to store a bit of love for you too."

You choke out an unfortunate barking noise of joy, then gather yourself enough to reply: "…You have no idea how happy you've just made me, boss."

"Oh, I think I do. My brain isn't just bigger than yours, Phaeton, it's bigger than you. There's more about you that I can read than I think you realise." The Titan looks down at something on the walkways below. "I think your friend Fifty-Twenty-Two wants me to give you back," says the Titan. "One last cuddle for you?" it asks, bringing in its hand so it can clasp you in both of them and give you the gentlest of squeezes. You stroke the Titan's hand in gratitude.

The Titan sets you down on the gantry next to Cygnus. You hug one of the Titan's digits goodbye before the Titan takes its hands back and turns its attention to some more of its engineers.

"You seem happy," says Cygnus, pulling you into a hug. You hug back and lovingly nuzzle your face into your friend's pea-coat. Cygnus continues: "I've got something else to tell you that I think will make you happier. I've been discussing things with engineer Sixty-Eight and with the base at Antlia-Four. Sixty-Eight and I propose a permanent schedule change for you: you would work here in the Titan's hangar one day per week, and the remainder of your work days will remain as they are. The supervisors at Antlia-Four were not happy with the idea of losing some of your work-hours, but they had to concede that your skills are valued here too."

A jolt of excitement runs through you at the prospect.

Cygnus notices your abrupt alertness, and displays a smiling emoticon for you. They then look somewhere behind you and form a beckoning gesture with one hand.

Engineer Sixty-Eight spawns in beside you both, in a cloud of black teleport-mist. You and Cygnus disengage so that you can talk to Sixty-Eight properly. Sixty-Eight offers a friendly fist to you and then to Cygnus, and both of you return the fist-bump. The engineer explains: "I believe Fifty-Twenty-Two has explained our proposal to you. With this, you would be part of the Titan's engineering team in an official capacity. The Titan itself approves of this proposal. I assume you do too?"

"…Absolutely correct." You say, "Oh, absolutely, yes! …I've an idea: why don't I take on the drudge work? Low brainpower tasks, like mixing coolant. That will remove some burden from everyone else and give them more time to concentrate on the tasks that actually require thinking."

"Your team spirit is commendable," replies engineer Sixty-Eight. "To begin with, we will likely take you up on that, but as time goes on we will train you on more tasks. Everyone has to take a turn at the 'drudge work'; we won't make it your burden to bear alone."

"I am so happy with this news! …Oh, I have to ask - I started calling you 'Chief' without ever checking with you that you were okay with nicknames. Do you want me to stop?"

"…It's acceptable. I think it's stuck now anyway; some of our colleagues have even taken to calling me that. But 'Sixty-Eight' is fine too."

"Understood."

"I saw from the memo about your auxiliary status that you have a new name too."

"That's right; I'm going by Phaeton now."

Sixty-Eight nods. "I already said this in an informal capacity, but now I get to say it in an official capacity too." Sixty-Eight offers you a hug, which you readily accept. You and Sixty-Eight got off to a shaky start but you really do want to make friends with them, and you hope they reciprocate. You and the engineer embrace. Sixty-Eight says: "Welcome to the engineering team, Phaeton. …We're glad to have you."

"I'm so happy to be here." Your mind is overflowing with possibilities. There is so much here for you to learn…

Sixty-Eight ends the hug. "It looks as though some of our colleagues are taking a break in the core chamber. I intend to join them now - are you coming?"

"Hell yeah!" you say, "Core snuggle club! …Might Twenty-Two join us, just on this occasion?" You realise it wouldn't be reasonable to allow every engineer to bring a plus-one, but Cygnus is already here and it feels harsh to tell them to their face that they're not invited… plus, you actually do want Cygnus there.

"Absolutely," replies the Titan before Engineer Sixty-Eight can. The Titan brings its hand to the gantry for the three of you to step onto, then ferries you to its core chamber.

You enter the core chamber and every TV-unit within arm's reach has to fist-bump or high-five you. Word has spread about your name change, auxiliary status (older news, but not officially implemented until today because of the serial issue) and now your official status as part of the engineering team. You're excited for your first day of 'real' work, but right now there's nowhere else you'd rather be - inside your dear Titan's core chamber, surrounded by several friendly acquaintances that you're looking forward to turning into actual friends, and alongside your beloved Cygnus… all at the cusp of a new chapter in your life, one that's worth fighting for.