The cabling lashing Treysi to the table creaked as she surged against her bonds. The metal of her right arm pressed hard against the unyielding cord, and he heard the squeal of servos. She threw her head back, her mouth opening in a scream of effort. Kirk saw the strips of slender metal that ran across her forehead begin to pulse.

"Treysi, stop!" he shouted shrilly. "We're not going to hurt you!"

He started forward but Targe grabbed his shoulder, the big man dragging him back a step. He glowered at the gangster and tried to yank himself free. He might as well have tried to pull himself from under a building for all the good it did.

The table creaked ominously.

"Fucking hell," Nevay hissed, edging around with her pistol aimed at Tresyi's head. "Let him go, T."

"Eh?"

"If she breaks loose, we'll have to put a bullet in her, and this whole fucking mess will've been for nothing. Let him try!" She shot him a furious glance.

With a reluctant grunt, Targe release his grip, and Kirk sprang forward. He scurried round to the opposite side of the table, away from the danger of Treysi's mechanical limb. Getting as close as he dared, he tried to angle himself so that she could actually look into his eyes.

"Treysi! Treysi!"" he yelled. "It's me. It's Kirk. You know who I am!"

Nothing. She had her eyes screwed shut with pain, veins on her neck bulging, the lights on her cybernetics flickering wildly. He could smell burning, and blood was beginning to flow from the joints. If she didn't stop, she would rip herself to pieces.

Ramming his fear to the back of his mind, Kirk let out a slight whimper as he stepped forward and reached out, grabbing her face with his hands. Half expecting her to break loose and tear him apart, he leaned in close anyway, and turned her head towards him. At first he couldn't budge her, the mechanisms buried into her jaw and throat anchoring her skull in place.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed harder, desperate to get her to register his presence. Finally he felt the motion of her head starting to turn, at her own pace rather than him having somehow overpowered the servos. Her eyes locked onto him, blazing, wild and bloodshot, but above all, terrified.

"Treysi," he said, trying to keep his voice level and calm. "Treysi, look at me. C'mon, right here." He took one hand off her face, two fingers in a V-shape, pointing to his eyes. "You remember who I am, right? We talked, in that place. Before all this."

Treysi surged against the cabling again. He heard the ear-splitting screech of her new talon-like toes scraping against the tabletop. Kirk winced, but kept holding her gaze, his left hand still resting against the side of her face. He felt some of the rage and the panic seep out of her, her shoulders gently sinking back to rest. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out, just a hoarse croak.

"Don't talk," he said. "Just... just nod if you remember who I am."

It took a few seconds, but she did; just a tiny dip of her head. That motion sent relief rushing through Kirk's body and he managed a breathless smile.

"Alright, alright. Good. Treysi, I know you're scared, and you don't know where you are, and this all seems super fucked up right now, but I need you to try and relax, okay? Your impants, they're still... acclimatising. If you keep moving and straining, you could damage them."

Kirk didn't know the science – he wasn't a doctor – but Treysi didn't need to know that. He could see it happening to her, for whatever reason.

"We're not going to hurt you," he continued. "We're going to get you some help, okay? We'll make sure the grafts take, and you'll be up and walking soon."

"What happened," Treysi rasped, her voice a harsh mechanical gargle that made his heart wrench. Why, why, why had she done this to herself?

"There was a problem at the clinic," Kirk lied. "Corporate security – they must have known figured out what your friends were doing down there. They busted in, wrecked the place. We managed to get you out."

Treysi stared at him for several seconds, like she couldn't comprehend what he was telling her. Eventually, one word forced its way out of her raw throat.

"Why?"

"The mods, they're illegal in Hadrian. You know-,"

"No. Why?" She grimaced and her whole body relaxed just a little. "Why me?"

"Just the first person I could get to," he told her, his stomach twisting as more fabrications tumbled easily from his lips. "You understand? We thought you might be disoriented when you woke up. That's why we tied you down. If we take these off, are you going to be okay?"

She nodded weakly. The burning smell had subsided, and it looked like the blood had stopped flowing at the seams of her joints, so he eased back, removing his hand from her face. Only then did he realise just how tensed up he'd been, when his neck and shoulders finally unwound with a painful crack. Exhaling a shuddering breath, he beckoned Nevay and Targe.

"It's alright," he told them shakily. "Untie her."

"Boss?" Targe murmured uneasily.

Nevay gave a reluctant nod. "Do it."

The big man stuffed his gun back into its holster like a moody child, and stalked forward, keeping a wary eye on Treysi as he unwound the loops of the heavy cabling. As he pulled them free, Kirk saw just how close some of them had come to breaking, almost shorn through by the strength of Treysi's cyborg augmentations.

A twist of fear made him shudder at the relisation of just how easily she might have ripped free and torn him to pieces.

"Hook her up," Nevay growled at Beela, who was still cowering by the door.

"I... you sure? Maybe we should wait-,"

"Hook. Her. Up." Nevay's glare could have buckled a rail track. The technician knew better than to argue any further, and edged forward like a furtive mouse, keeping close to Targe's imposing bulk as she started to unspool her wires.

Kirk stayed where Treysi could see him, hoping that his presence might keep her calm enough to let Beela finish her work. The girl's eyes flickered uneasily to the left and right, but she stayed still, chest rising and falling regularly. The lines of metal in her skull shimmered faintly, but for the moment, her cybernetics stayed dormant.

"Kirk," Nevay said as she slid her pistol back into its holster. "Come here, would you?"

That tone of tight, forced calm filled him with unease, but this wasn't exactly a conversation he could dodge. Jamming his hands into his pocked, he smiled at Treysi with as much comfort as he could muster.

"I'll be right back, okay? Just take it easy."

Another nod.

Kirk trudged away from her, out into the corridor beyond. Nevay followed him, sending the door sliding shut behind her. He turned, expecting hellfire, damnation and everything inbetween to come spewing out of her mouth, but instead he found her just standing there, arms folded, looking uneasy but scarily calm.

"Okay," he murmured. "I think this is usually the part where you yell."

"What would be the point," she snorted, throwing up a hand in derision. "She's here, and we've already pissed off whoever's running that little horror show out there. Nothing left to do now but deal with it." Nevay sighed and thumped him good naturedly on the shoulder. To his amazement, a smile found its way onto her face. "What the hell were you thinking, chucking yourself in there like that?"

Kirk shrugged, letting out an awkward chuckle. "I dunno. We had to do something. I think those guards might have minced us right at the front door if I hadn't."

"You nearly got yourself looking like that." She pointed back towards Treysi. "Hell of a risk, Kirk."

"I know, I know."

"Got us in though. Crazy bastard." Her cheeks puffed out and she turned, hands on hips as she looked through the window of the ad-hoc medical bay. "So what now? What are you going to do when she figures out that we didn't save her from the corps?"

"Fuck, Nev, one thing at a time, eh?" he grunted, moving to stand beside her. "I calmed her down, didn't I?"

"Oi, oi! Sounds like the ruckus has died down, eh?" called a voice from down the hall.

Kirk looked, and saw Doser wandering towards them as though he didn't have a care in the world, jam-packed sandwich clamped in one hand. He took a huge bite as he came to a stop beside them, chewing voraciously and looking through to where Targe and Beela worked.

"Let's hope she stays that way. Could here that racket from your bloody kitchen." He glanced at them, still chewing. Only then did he register their withering looks. "What?"

"You seriously fucked off to make a snack during all that?" Nevay grated.

"Man's gotta eat." Doser shrugged and nodded towards the room. "Besides, nothing I'm gonna be able to do that your big bloody bodyguard in there can't. Figured I'd get out of the way."

"Unbelievable." Nevay rolled her eyes and turned back to Kirk. "Alright, we've got her calm, for now. So what do we do?"

"We've got to talk to her," Kirk answered. "We've got to trace this back to the source; know how she got snared up in this shit. You know we're on the right track now, right? She's connected to all of this."

Nevay gently scuffed a foot against the floor, not meeting his gaze. "You were talking about the bodies at the terminal."

"Mmm," Doser grunted around another mouthful. "How does she figure into all that then? You were shooting your mouth off about revolutions, building armies – what is it you think's going on?"

"That butcher-shop we found," Kirk explained, "everybody in that place, they got picked cos they had an axe to grind with the corps. Around here, I guess that's pretty easy picking."

"So, you reckon it's all one big recruitment drive? Something with a brain's come over the river with a mind for revenge?"

"Makes sense doesn't it? Where else would somebody get a Lurker?"

"But if bringing the locals on board is the grand plan, why'd they waste time ripping Priatt's people to pieces?"

"I think they probably needed... fresh meat." He grimaced as the words left his mouth.

"Aw, fuckin' hell," Doser groaned lowering the sandwich from his mouth in disgust. "You kidding me, Balfour?"

"Got a better explanation?" Kirk spread his hands apologetically. "Targe said there weren't enough parts to account for all the dead bodies we found. Think about it. If whoever's behind this really is from Hadrian South, how long do you think they've been hauling about dead or dying human parts? They must've needed to replace them, and fast, so they took it from the first people unlucky enough to be in the way."

The doors opened before anyone could pick up that bleak line of conversation, and Beela stepped out, shaking all over, wringing her hands together.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Mmm? Oh, yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just... not exactly the job description." Beela let out a shrill, nervous laugh and then pointed back into the room. "She wants to talk to you again. Won't say why. Don't think she likes me."

"Fucking hell, go get a drink," Nevay told her, "and get a hold of your nerves while you're at it."

Insult or not, Beela was off like a shot down the hallway, clearly eager put as many walls and doors between her and their new guest as she could. Kirk watched her go, then exchanged resigned glances with Nevay and Doser before stepping back into the room.

Treysi looked peaceful enough, but Targe was still keeping a respectful distance. Kirk did his best to look cool and collected as he walked around to where Treysi could see him. She didn't raise her head, but her eyes flickered to him.

"Kirk?" Some of the rasp had left her voice now.

"Yeah. How you feeling?"

"I can't stay here."

"Treysi, your implants. You need time to-,"

"I can't." She didn't move but he saw her whole body clench tight. Her mechanical arm twitched. "I just... I have to be out there. I have to get back, to fight the corps."

"Hey, I think we all hate the corps as much as the next guy," he laughed weakly, "but you just had a major operation. Your body isn't ready yet-,"

"Kirk please!"

He recoiled slightly at the strangled scream that erupted from that metal throat. Again, she stayed on the table, just staring at him, but it was like watching a lit fuse. He couldn't shake the feeling that she could still detonate at any moment.

"Why do you have to?" he asked, suspicion growing in his mind. "What did they tell you?"

"No-one told me. The corps – they're evil, Kirk! I know you know it too. We have to end them! Please, you have to let me out of here."

"I... we'll talk about it okay, Treysi? Just... just please, wait until your implants are working properly, alright? Once its safe for you to move around, we're not going to keep you prisoner."

He didn't know if that last bit would end up being a lie or not, but right now he just needed her to stop. Rage burned behind her eyes as she looked at him, but in the end she let her head fall back against the table, staring at the ceiling.

"Guess that's a yes?" Targe muttered.

Kirk spun around, scampering back out of the room and closing the door, beckoning Nevay and Doser close.

"Right, we've got find help, and I mean real help," Kirk hissed, inclining his head towards Treysi. "Not some back-alley surgeon. Someone who can look inside her properly and see what they did to her. This is more than a bad graft. They've done something to her mind – taken everything she hates about the corps and turned it up to a hundred."

"You sure about that?" Nevay looked sceptical. "A lot of people hate the corps."

"C'mon, you saw that. She said she had to, like it wasn't even her choice anymore!"

"He's right," Doser agreed. "I've seen plenty crazy – this is a different kind."

Nevay relented. "Alright, I'll bite. But then who exactly do you want to go poking around in there? We can't exactly walk into a spiv clinic and ask for a check up. The shit she's plugged with is meant to be twenty-five kinds of illegal."

"Well, I'm not exactly thinking of a doctor."

"Then what?"

He gave her a nervous smile.

Nevay looked at him for a moment. Then she caught his meaning and with a long-suffering motion, she rubbed her eyes with one hand, taking a deep breath.

"Please don't be saying what I think you're saying."

"Woah, why, what do you think he's saying?" Doser asked uneasily.

"I think he wants to talk to AmpCore." She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. "Right, Kirk?"

"Err..." Kirk hunched his shoulders bashfully.

Doser groaned. "We are all going to die."

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