Frostflower Legacy: My Own Master

She always wore a uniform. She took great pride in her uniforms and kept them in pristine condition. Even after emerging from the thick of battle, the only thing that was ever bloodied was her vibroknife; Never a drop of blood on her neatly-pressed uniform. Vector was mystified as to how Cipher Thirteen accomplished such an impossible feat, but chalked it up to an Intelligence secret. Now, however... She had put her uniforms away, exchanged them for an entirely black ensemble consisting of a sweeping trench coat, tight pants, and thin-heeled boots with accents of dark gunmetal gray.

There was a coldness in her eyes as well, a sharpness that hadn't been present on Alderaan, not until she had concluded her meeting with Ardun Kothe on Nar Shaddaa. He had been worried then, too. The spies had immediately ushered him away, kept him busy for some time, and once the Cipher had returned, she had seemed troubled, disoriented, her aura shuddering and flickering like a candle's dying flame. Now they were on their way to Taris to do the Republic's dirty work and Thirteen -- a staunch Imperial loyalist -- didn't even bat an eye. Something was wrong, something was definitely wrong, and the Dawn Herald could sense it.

They were due to drop out of hyperspace soon and he had gone searching for her, wanting to ease the concern he felt over her sudden but subtle change before they landed planetside. Luckily the X-70B Phantom wasn't expansive enough to get lost in, and Vector located the Cipher relatively quickly, seated in the captain's chair in the cockpit, hunched over with her head in her hands. Her aura was twisting, swirling, wavering like the epitome of turmoil and anxiety, sending an alarm through the Joiner's senses.

"Agent! Are you... Are you alright?" In just a few long strides, he was beside her, coal-colored eyes fixing on her emerald ones as she glanced up to him. Her face was blank like usual, that same mask of apathy she always wore. There was no doubt that Cipher Thirteen was an enigma, keeping no ties to the world outside of Imperial Intelligence as she isolated herself behind her walls of ice. But now was not the time to indulge her solitary nature. She was sick, distorted, troubled; She needed to open up, she needed to drain that poison out of her veins lest it kill her.

"Agent, ple-"

"I am fine, Vector," she interrupted, casting her gaze away and out the windshield of the prototype starship.

"Your aura says differently," he objected gently. "Please, agent. What ails you? Surely, we could be of some help..."

Abruptly, the blonde spy got to her feet and slid around her companion, the hem of her long coat swishing around her legs as she made for the corridor out of the cockpit. However, she stopped just short in the archway, hand set on the metal frame, clouded eyes fixed blankly on the wooden flooring before her.

"I am fine," she repeated, her voice now monotone, and the diplomat wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him of such a 'truth', or herself.

"Agent..." For just a moment, he trailed off, giving a short sigh as he tried to decide how best to approach the situation now. Thirteen never enjoyed it when he pried too deeply into her past or her mental state. Without a doubt, they both were sensitive subjects to her. But just once, he wished she would let go of her crippling dependence on total isolation. How could she not see that if she didn't let others inside, it would only destroy her in the end? The process had already begun!

He only wanted to save her from such a lonely fate.

"Kothe did something, did he not?" He saw her lithe body stiffen, her aura snapping in surprise his clue that he had finally stumbled onto the right thread. "You were fine before that meeting with him, and now... Now you are different."

"... Different?" Her tone was odd, curiously emotionless, almost hallow, as if she were just mindlessly repeating his own words.

"Changed, agent. Your aura reflects it. It shudders with anxiety, with turbulence. Kothe did something to you, and now it distresses you."

'How perceptive,' a smooth, deep voice crooned within Cipher Thirteen's thoughts, causing her to flinch visibly. 'You keep good company. Company you'll have to dispose of if he doesn't quit asking questions...'

Forcing herself to exhale in a slow and controlled manner, she gripped the metal of the archway, hanging her head as she used her other hand to rub at one side of her face. Worry growing at this display, Vector turned and approached his companion once more, though his steps were more careful this time.

"Get out," he heard her mutter under her breath. "I am my own master. Don't you dare control me... I am not a droid..."

'Not a droid?' The voice threw back, sounding somewhat amused. 'Could've fooled me, what with all these cybernetics.'

"I am human... As I have ever been..."

'But when you sleep, do you dream in digital? Of electric nerfs? You're barely human anymore...'

Vector wasn't sure what had happened, but had never been more grateful for his naturally swift reflexes. Had he been any slower, he might not have been able to stop the Cipher from tearing out the cybernetic implants that framed her face. He hadn't been able to make sense of her soft mumbles, but was almost caught off-guard by an abrupt cry from her, something that was a mixture of anger and anguish. Her hands had shot up to the implants, slender fingers only managing to hook around the bottom, triangular portions before the Dawn Herald had lurched forward and reached around to grab her wrists, effectively stopping her. Thirteen might have been skilled with her vibroknife and a deadly shot with her rifle, but there was no doubt that he had the superior physical strength.

"Agent! What is this madness?!" Perhaps he hadn't meant for his voice to have such an edge to it, but couldn't help it in the wake of the alarm he still felt. The blonde spy was always so calm, so collected, so cold and aloof. Such a strong and almost violent display of emotion... It was almost disturbing.

Forcing herself to breathe again, the Cipher let go of her cybernetics after a few moments in favor of balling her hands into fists instead.

"I'm... I'm still human," she commented softly, fists tightening so hard they were beginning to shake. "I'm still human... Right? It's not... It's not what makes up my body, but what makes up my heart, my thoughts... Isn't it?"

Without warning, she fell to her knees, but fluidly Vector followed suit, taking care to keep a firm grasp on her wrists, though he himself stiffened slightly when she fell back and against him.

"I'm still human... Aren't I?"

His nervous discomfort with their close contact was pushed aside when her sorrow hit him like a wave, her aura weakening, wilting almost with torment and hints self-loathing. But the Joiner understood; He knew the nature of her question. It was no secret that Cipher Thirteen was a cyborg, but the extent of her cybernetics was a well-guarded Intelligence secret. Not even Kaliyo knew just how much of the blonde spy was mechanical, and the Rattataki had been fighting along side her since her days as Agent Riss years ago. But Vector, he could smell it. Her pheromones were all but saturated with the scent of cold metal, and while he wasn't able to pinpoint an exact amount, he was still certain that at least half of her body, if not more, was mechanical.

Pausing for just a moment, he finally released her wrists, choosing instead to gingerly slide his arms around her waist, pulling the Cipher into a comforting hug as he sat back as well.

"You are," he agreed softly. "Just like we are..."