Giant Robot Reincarnation?!

In my virtual space, a peaceful and still white void, I was having a rather outrageous conversation with my sister’s copy.

“So,” I said uncertainly, “you’re Sveta-2, right?”

“Yup!” she replied. In contrast to the original’s simple white dress, Sveta’s copy was wearing a strapless and sensual black dress trimmed with lace, which had a somewhat Gothic feel. “But you can call me Evil Sveta if you like.”

“EVIL Sveta?!”

“We figured it would be a bit boring if all us Sveta copies were simply numbered. Besides, that’s Tektite’s thing, and I don’t wanna infringe on their territory. So me and Sveta Prime decided each one of us will have a descriptor instead of a number. And thus, in chaos and darkness was Evil Sveta born!” She pounded her chest proudly.

“I still don’t get it.” I said, shaking my head. “Surely you’re not actually evil, right?”

“Evil is relative, Kometka. What’s important is I’m on the side of humanity!” Evil Sveta replied.

“Granted. Still, considering how close you cleave to ‘Sveta Prime’ I have a hard time thinking of you as evil. You’re too kind-hearted to be a villain of any sort.” I knew my sister well enough to say that with complete confidence.

“Ahahaha, true. It’s just a joke, Kometka, so don’t think about it too much. Maybe I should be Chuuni Sveta instead? With black wings and an eyepatch?”

“I don’t even know what ‘chuuni’ means. And EVERYTHING is a joke with you.” I said, just a bit tartly.

“Of course it is! Comedy is how I deal with stress, you know. It’s a good coping mechanism!”

“Coping mechanism, huh?” I supposed everyone needed coping mechanisms, to one degree or another. My eyes grew a bit distant, and my thoughts drifted back to my pilot…

*****

My dearest pilot, Lydia, had another PTSD flashback the other day. This is a struggle she’s had her entire life, but the flashbacks really intensified after the Third Great Surge, for obvious reasons. She’s had plenty of psychotherapy, not to mention anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medications freely provided by Yayoi. Sometimes she’ll go many months or even half a year without any problems, and then she’ll suddenly relapse for no reason at all. In this instance, the trigger was something as innocuous as a fellow soldier chewing on some meat in the mess hall. I had been fortunate enough to be nearby, and a combination of my singing and hugging had driven her trauma away, temporarily.

Officially, the only ones who know about Lydia’s condition are Yuri, Yayoi and myself; there is an official diagnosis in her personnel file, but only command-level officers had access to that. Many of our comrades have surely seen the signs, but they are polite enough not to pry. After all, many of them suffer from the same condition.

Lydia’s worked hard to keep it a secret. As a lifelong soldier, she considers the flashbacks to be an inexcusable and shameful weakness, no matter how many times we tell her that it’s not her fault. The day after her most recent episode, when she retired to her quarters and I embraced her oh-so-tightly in my physical arms, she again aired her insecurities.

“I’m… not fit to be in command of Maid Squadron.” she said quietly.

“Nonsense.” I replied. “Captain Savitskaya wouldn’t have promoted you if you weren’t.”

She shook her head. “She didn’t know about this… about my problem.”

“It’s in your personnel file.” I tried to reason with her.

“She probably didn’t read it. The promotion was impulsive, stupid. Maurice is much more suited to this than me.” She ground her teeth.

“That’s not true.” I said firmly.

“I want to talk with the Captain. Let her know I’m not ready for this.” Lydia said, suddenly wriggling out of my grasp and making for the door of her quarters.

“Lydia, stop!” I pleaded with her. “Take some time to decompress. You’re not in a good mindset right now. Please don’t be rash.”

“No, I’m thinking perfectly clearly.” She pulled on her uniform jacket. “I have to do this.”

I’m strong enough to physically stop her, but that would just make things worse. I thought despairingly, wracking my brain.

*****

“So there you have it. Because of my condition, I think someone else would be better suited for command.” Lydia said.

When we had first entered Captain Savitskaya’s quarters aboard the Radiolaria, she had been reviewing combat data at her desk. Her posture and expression, as befitting a captain, were firm and professional. Yet as she listened to Lydia talk about her latest flashback, her expression softened and her eyes filled with sympathy.

“Before I jump into shoptalk,” the Captain said, “I just want to clarify one thing. Are you okay now?”

“I’m…” Lydia choked up a bit. “I am now, yes. Thanks to Kometka.”

I clung tightly to Lydia’s arm, trying to channel my strength into her. I could feel her shivering.

The Captain nodded. “I see. And you’re fit for your duties? Patrols and the like?”

“Yes.” Lydia nodded.

“In that case, I don’t see what the problem is. Nothing you told me makes me believe you’re unsuited for commanding the Maid Squadron.”

“But!” Katya protested. “My PTSD! My flashbacks! I’m not reliable… I’m too damaged to…”

The Captain folded her arms. “I knew about that before I promoted you, Lydia. Your diagnosis is in your personnel file, which I reviewed right after I transferred you.”

Despite the tense mood, I gently elbowed Lydia in the ribs as if to say I told you so!

She winced. “I… I don’t… What if I freeze up in the middle of a battle? I could endanger myself and everyone under my command.”

“In that case, Kometka will take over piloting and Maurice will issue orders. Lots of commanding officers suffer from PTSD and go on to do great things, I promise you.”

“That’s… I can’t believe that!” Lydia practically shouted.

There was a moment of silence. Then the Captain floated over to us and placed a hand on Lydia’s shoulder. “Lydia, let me tell you a little secret. I suffer from PTSD too.”

“What? YOU?” Lydia gasped. I was equally as shocked; Captain Savitskaya seemed like an indomitable woman, completely free of any weakness.

The Captain nodded. “I was in Skopje back when it was destroyed by an asteroid in ’35.” She shuddered, almost imperceptibly. “I remember it vividly, even twenty years later. The initial blast, the sky choked with ash and smoke, the fires that raged for weeks afterwards, the survivors burned beyond recognition, flesh hanging from their… well, suffice to say, those images have haunted me ever since. I haven’t had a flashback as bad as the one you just described, well, over a decade. But I have been where you are right now, in that place filled with pain and horror, living in a memory you can’t escape, and I know how hard it is.”

“How… how did you… overcome it?” Lydia asked.

The Captain frowned. “Drugs, doctors and determination? I don’t have a better answer than that, and what worked for me may not work for you. It’s different for everyone, and I’m not a psychologist so I’m not really qualified to give advice. I can’t PROMISE you it will get better, but I can at least reassure you that, for me, it did. With a lot of time, and a lot of hard work, it got better.”

Lydia’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. I gripped her arm tightly. The Captain withdrew her hand from Lydia’s shoulder.

“Besides, you’re surrounded by good people. Rely on them. That support is the most important thing.” She looked directly at me as she said that, and I nodded silently. “I’ve served with many fine officers who suffered from PTSD, and I don’t consider it to be an absolute impairment. Have a little confidence in yourself, Senior Lieutenant."

Lydia’s muscles tensed, and she snapped into a salute. The Captain returned it, smiling gently.

“I will, ma’am.” Lydia said. “And thank you.”

*****

“You know,” Lydia said after we returned to her quarters, “she’s not as scary as I first thought.”

“No, she’s definitely scary.” I responded. “But only when she needs to be. More than that, she’s extremely empathic. That’s an important quality in a commander.” My admiration for Captain Savitskaya had grown; I now understood why even bratty hotshots like Miette respected her deeply.

“Yeah.” Suddenly, Lydia hugged me from behind.

“Wha?”

She leaned forwards and whispered in my ear. “Thank you, Kometka. Because of you, I think I can do this.”

“I know you can.” I placed both my hands over hers. Her breasts were pressed to my back, and I felt her soft breathing as her chest rose and fell.

She pulled me back into her bed.

*****

“Hello? Kometka? EARTH TO KOMETKA?!” Evil Sveta was waving her hand in front of my eyes.

“Oh!” I snapped to attention. “Sorry, I was lost in thought for a moment there.”

She eyed me suspiciously. “Lost in thought, huh? You were BLUSHING! Were you remembering something lewd?”

I placed both my hands over my cheeks. “It’s… complicated. But I think it’s a happy memory.”

“OHOHOHOHO! It WAS lewd! Were you and Lydia testing out the vagina functionality on your Telepresence Doll?”

“I have no comment.”

Just then, Sveta Prime popped into the virtual space and immediately greeted me with a hug. “Hello there Kometka, Evil Sveta! I’m BACK!”

“You and Miette are done with your patrol shift?” I asked as she nuzzled my cheek.

“YUP! More importantly, Evil Sveta, did you tell Kometka about that thing we discussed!”

Evil Sveta snapped her fingers. “CRAP! I completely forgot!”

Sveta Prime released me and placed her hands on her hips, glaring disapprovingly. “Dang it, Evil Sveta! You had ONE JOB!”

“Sorry, sorry, I just got caught up in conversation with my dear sister.” Evil Sveta said, not sounding apologetic in the least.

“Ahhahaha, whatever. I can’t stay mad at you.” Sveta Prime then proceeded to glomp and nuzzle… herself. “Proceeding with memory synchronization!”

Now THAT was a surreal sight. Two Svetas embracing each other and exchanging data through their skinship. I wondered if the physical contact was a necessary part of the memory sync, of if they were simply goofing around.

“This is going to take some getting used to…” I muttered. Ever since I had reunited with Zehra and my sister, my life had been turned upside-down like a pineapple cake.

““What was that?”” both Svetas asked.

“Nothing, nothing.” I responded. “So what was the important thing Evil Sveta was supposed to tell me?”

“We’ll need Lydia for this. It’s very VERY important!” Evil Sveta explained.

“Huh?”

“We have to pick out your new paint job!” she proclaimed.

“My new WHAT?!”

“For your new X-23 Gravity Frame! Zehra has to burn in the paint jobs before she applies the Beelzebub chitin-resin to the armor, so you need to pick out a design. Personally, I think you should go for a blood-drenched skull wreathed in evil flames!” Evil Sveta cackled madly after offering her suggestion.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Evil Sveta!” interjected Sveta Prime. “Obviously she should go for a floral design with lots of lilies.”

“Not EVERYTHING needs lilies on it, you massive lesbian.” Evil Sveta groused.

“You’re just as much a massive lesbian as me!” retorted Sveta Prime. “You are LITERALLY ME!”

While they bickered, I activated the optical sensors on my Telepresence Doll and checked in on Lydia. She was still entangled with my body, and snoring softly. She had thoroughly worn herself out last night.

“Well,” I interrupted, “Lydia’s still asleep, so this matter will have to wait.”

“Nonsense!” Sveta Prime said. “I have a few hundred designs on file; we can pick out the best ones to show her when she wakes up! Now, about those lilies…”

“Always with the lilies! Not every metaphor has to be THAT obvious.” said Evil Sveta.

I sighed deeply and surrendered myself to their prodding, knowing full well I wouldn’t hear the end of it until I had indulged their penchant for the whimsical.

That’s just how my sister is. A whirlwind of energy that exhausts everyone around her.

I love her so much.