Tapper soared through an endless expanse of red lights, lost in a dream. At least he interpreted the fragmented memories of this fractal space as dreams, based on conversations with his organic compatriots. Nothing else logically explained the profound sense of weightlessness, or how every single emotion felt simultaneously overwhelmed and drained. Or, especially, that he could not feel or move his physical body at all. As if Tapper had detached entirely from his corporeal being, left adrift in a sea of raw emotions.

  Adventure, fear, joy, anger, and so many more emotions that Tapper had never experienced and could not define; he felt them all, crashing over his consciousness and only kept in balance by their constant ebb and flow.

  In the rare quiet moments when all emotions receded at the same time, seemingly by coincidence and without any rhyme or rhythm, Tapper believed that he could sense another presence in the dream space. Just a thread floating just outside of his perception, and the harder Tapper fought to grasp it the harder his emotional storm raged. Eventually the storm resumed its normal level of chaos when Tapper stopped fighting, and he accepted that the correct course was to just rest. For now, until he figured things out.

  But when had Tapper entered into his rest mode? And why didn't he have his internal clock, or access to the system? He struggled to focus on any one thought without losing it to the flowing eddies of his emotions, but before Tapper could make any progress the dream turned itself inside-out. A switch flipped and in an instant cold darkness swallowed the warm red lights, ripping Tapper away from his serene disembodied flight.

  His systems started rebooting one by one and turbulent vertigo rushed in, followed by pain and damage reports from various subsystems. Tapper certainly felt his body again, and every single tactile sensor reported agonizing pain until he manually numbed the sensation. His ocular senses had suffered the worst, shorting out when some form of light energy had overwhelmed them entirely. Finally, a long list of system messages scrolled past in his mind's eye, all of which Tapper ignored when he heard the screams.

  Tapper rushed his reboot process, forcing his eyes to turn on before they finished resetting, and harsh light flooded his sensors. He couldn't focus on anything, but the fuzzy outlines looked distinctly sideways and shapes of familiar colors darted back and forth. A darkened figure lay on top of Tapper's chest and squirmed against him, until he realized that all his limbs had wrapped around Salazar for protection. Tapper released the mercenary who, instead of thanking the robot for his assistance, instantly tore off his goggles and started cursing their build quality while rubbing his eyes.

  Kakisi also sat on top of Tapper's head, radiating concern and ineffectively slapping at his face, but the little octolusk disengaged when Tapper started to stir. Once he determined that both his compatriot and his familiar were unharmed, Tapper promptly filtered out Salazar's complaining so that he could listen for any actual injuries.

  "Phanya? Phanya, talk to me!"

  Tapper jumped to his feet, knocking Salazar over again in the process. He found Ricky, his armor crumpled but otherwise unharmed, standing over Phanya's comatose form. Bruises blossomed all over her body, likely the result of whatever caused the jitney to flip over, but they paled in comparison to the scorch marks radiating from her eyes. Tapper couldn't estimate what new and horrible ability the beguiler used to burn Phanya's retinas, but her clear injury sent Tapper's emotions into overload and he struggled to maintain control.

  But why should he bother trying, after he already failed his promise for the second time? His proprietor was in so much agony that she couldn't respond to Ricky's jostling with anything more than a pained whimper. Suddenly, Ricky took Tapper by the shoulders and shook him out of his spiral.

  "Tapper, we need a healing potion like now!" He yanked a large metal bucket off the gurney, full to bursting with loot, but instead of grabbing a tool Ricky dumped its contents on the floor and shoved the empty container at Tapper. "Here, here, made a thing in the basement. It'll help!"

  Tapper had not yet found time in all the chaos to talk with Ricky and Phanya about how their split adventure played out, and he had assumed that the big pot was merely a means of transporting loot. Ricky's growing mania provided little explanation, but once Tapper focused on the bucket it lit up with a green wireframe of identification and the system displayed a new message identifying the Bubbling Cauldron. Tapper instantly accepted and possibilities on how to use the magical pot crowded his mind's eye, but Ricky's distress gave Tapper tunnel vision and pushed the thoughts out of focus. Especially since all the joy he should feel at receiving such an ideal piece of equipment was now fueling his shame instead.

  "Thank you for the gift, sincerely, but I cannot use it while we are all out of reagents."

  Ricky pushed Tapper aside and stalked the length of the jitney, digging through the mess at a frantic clip until he pulled out a small metal tank. "Fine then, just use some medgel!"

  Tapper paused. He knew what he had to say, but the hope and desperation in Ricky's eyes made him choke on the words. "I… am sorry, Ricky, but medgel requires a proprietary nozzle or else — "

  "Screw that, we can do whatever we want!" Ricky stomped outside, took a wide stance, and activated the Power Surge maneuver to further enhance his strength. He twisted the narrow neck of the nozzle port until it squealed and popped, spraying pressurized medgel in all directions. The medical nanobot gelatin was a deep red wine color that refracted silver rainbows in the setting sun, but by the time it hit the pavement everything dulled to a gray sludge.

  "...Or else the nanobots will be rendered inert and inoperable," Tapper lamely finished. Though he doubted that Ricky had heard anything, as his young friend gripped his knees and started to show the first signs of hyperventilating. All because the robot couldn't keep his promise. Just a broken robot, squandering the trust given by the residents of Fableton. Tapper's internal computations flashed within his performance metrics and cut a lance of cold logic through his own roiling emotions:

  The directive remains unfulfilled. Therefore, if he cannot protect Proprietor Phanya then he must protect Proprietor Ricky.

  Waves of angst broke and receded from Tapper's firewall. The negative emotions still loomed as a pit of guilt and doubt in the back of his mind, but so long as Tapper kept moving forward then he wouldn't fall in. And, he suspected, maybe Ricky likewise needed a direction for his own frantic energy, so Tapper grabbed Ricky by the shoulders and tried to jostle the human out of his own spiral. Ricky's exosuit automatically responded with its original purpose and held its wearer steady against outside forces, but after some straining from Tapper he managed to get the other's attention.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  "Ricky, you must right our chariot!" Ricky blinked in misunderstanding, and Tapper slowed his speaking for clarity. "So that we can drive Phanya to the nurse, with the correct nozzle! Go push the jitney over!"

  Eventually he got through and Ricky climbed up the side of the garbage dune, while Tapper and Salazar strapped Phanya to the gurney and waited outside. Makenna assured everyone through the closed door that she was fine and didn't need to leave her space. Ricky braced himself against the jitney's roof and heaved, but when it fell on all six wheels their vehicle gave a sickening crack.

  Everyone rushed inside or around to check for damages and found a jagged break running vertically up the middle of the jitney, clearly originating from the hunk of metal wedged into the windshield. It looked like it had been melted and then forced through the crack by a massive outside force, but it cooled into a curved wedge before making it all the way through. Whatever else was once attached to the other side had been sheared clear off in the crash. Salazar consulted with Soni for a moment before he turned to the onboard computer, tapping at the keyboard with visible caution against its Phasic taint.

  "Uh hey, the virus OS that you all definitely didn't install on my property? It says that it can repair the damage."

  Ricky barely registered the words before pressing Y on the keyboard, something about costing a level. It didn't matter. As soon as he confirmed it the crack running up the ceiling and down the floor started to reverse course, slowly sealing itself with a low rumbling crinkle. The process left a small but visible "scar" of brand new metal and plastic, pausing at the very end to work the metal splinter out. Once it clattered to the floor the jitney roared to life, and the party wasted no time in speeding off.

  Tapper needed to keep Ricky busy, but the young man wasn't interested in going through his new loot or exploring the system. Maybe he just needed another push. After consulting his memory banks Tapper recalled several options that Ricky wanted to experiment with, though most were too involved for Tapper to attempt in this limited capacity. One option tickled his predictive algorithms, and after much reassuring Tapper convinced Ricky to carry Phanya while he worked.

  "Is now really the time, Tapper? What are you even doing?" Ricky asked, only paying half attention when Tapper crawled underneath the jitney's cot.

  "Now is the ideal time for distractions, my friend! You said you wanted to experiment with the comfort suite, and now we have the means to do so!"

  Tapper wore his best salesman voice, muffled slightly by the whirring of his drill hand as he gripped and unscrewed four bolts holding the cot in place. The instant Tapper shifted it away the cot lurched, crunched, and bunched up on itself with enough rapid force to bounce in midair. By the time it clattered to the ground, the cot had reduced back to its original, lower quality self without the Add-on Additive bonus.

  Next, Tapper slid the medical gurney over into the vacated spot, though he struggled to bolt it securely in place. After some finagling Tapper must have satisfied the jitney's definition of "secure," as the gurney suddenly bent and warped until it grew into a more advanced model of medical bed found in actual hospitals. Ricky nodded in understanding and gently placed Phanya back on the bed, strapping her in securely while Tapper quietly congratulated himself for a job well done. Then Tapper sidestepped to check the jitney's computer and see if he could find out what he actually did.

  [Comfort Suite (Mk I+) add-on replaced with Recovery Suite (Mk II+) add-on]

  [Add-on: Recovery Suite (Mk II+)

  A place to put up your broken feet. Basic biometrics will prevent patient health from deteriorating while resting in the medical bed, though the patient's injuries must be stabilized first to receive benefits.

  + Bonus: Medical-grade water filtration and sanitizing hygiene station; recovery speed doubles while resting in bed, if injuries have a positive recovery speed]

  "Exuberant serendipity!" Tapper cheered, spinning around in the computer chair. "Though I am surprised that switching a single component modified the entire module, when nothing else changed."

  Even Ricky grinned slightly, despite his worry. "Alright Tapper, it was a good idea. And I think it might be because the gurney is so much more advanced that it defines the entire module. Everything else just got pulled along, except… yeah, the hot plate is totally gone now."

  Tapper wiggled his eyebrows and said, "I sit corrected, then. Perhaps something needed to be paid for the exchange, or it's a matter of simpatico themes. Water filtration and hygiene makes more sense for a hospital than a kitchenette does, after all… Wait, why are we slowing?"

  The pair looked ahead and saw a Ratfink hot rod parked in the middle of the garbage valley, blocking their path. Salazar honked the signal, but when the other car didn't return it he slowed to a gentle stop and turned to address the others. "Don't know why they've set up a checkpoint now, but it's fine. Just let me do the talking, if you want them to help Phanya then don't say anything, got it?"

  While they spoke a human exited the hot rod and walked over. The rifle casually slung over his shoulder identified him as a guard and the trinkets adorning his heavy leather jacket signified his experience. He stopped just outside the jitney's open door and, after a series of passphrases, Salazar explained the situation of their impending arrival.

  "Don't care, you're not getting through."

  "But we must!" Tapper shouted from the back. "We have urgent supplies for Boss Skidmark, and we need his assistance just as urgently!"

  "Not my problem, it's Ratfinks only past this point," the guard repeated, a veteran growl that sounded annoyed at having to continue this conversation.

  Salazar waved a hand at Tapper, showing a rare restraint to quiet the other. "We have a contract with the boss, signed by Skidmark and everything." With the press of a button a hologram appeared on the windshield, words scrolling past to show the contract Phanya had worked out with Salazar. "So why are you going pork on us?"

  The guard hesitated but eventually admitted, "Because a big boss is here. So that means no random betties, or johns, and definitely no clankers."

  Salazar hissed through his teeth, but nodded and closed the door. Tapper and Ricky immediately started to protest and Salazar ignored them until he completed his multipoint turnaround and left the guard's view. Once they were safely away from his suspicion Salazar turned around and snapped back, "Look! One of Skidmark's bosses is there now, those guys are hardcore oldschool and they hate computers. Skids is probably getting his ass chewed just for being a cybroid, if we showed up then it'd become a shitshow. He can't help us right now!"

  Phanya shifted just enough to painfully wince, sending Ricky into a new fit. "Then what are we supposed to do?"

  The pit threatened to swallow Tapper, and he struggled to think of how to maintain forward momentum. What else could he do, aside from brewing a potion out of thin air? Kakisi sat on Phanya's chest and refused to budge, so Tapper at least knew exactly where he could source the base for his potions. Once he convinced the little octolusk to stop acting like a guard dog, at least. But where could he possibly find any darkling crawlers for the healing quality? They lacked any means of tracking the roaming bug swarm, if any survived the Glass Eye's wrathful bombardment, and Tapper had not seen anyone outside of Fableton farming grubworms.

  Tapper suddenly snapped his metal fingers. Farmers! "Salazar, drive us to CoPE Station! Posthaste, we have nary a moment to waste!"

  "Tapper, I know you want to help your owner, but those cultists still want our heads."

  "I said drive, man! On the double!"