The hum of the Outpost's communications center was a constant, soothing backdrop to Arthur Cousland's morning routine. Screens flickered with status reports, supply manifests, and the occasional encrypted message from Central Command. Arthur sat at the central console, his goddesium prosthetic legs crossed casually beneath the desk, while his Cerberus-engineered charcoal-alloy arm typed efficiently across a holographic keyboard. His slicked-back brown hair and short beard framed a face etched with the quiet determination of a man who had built a sanctuary from the ashes of war.
Shifty, the ever-reliable communications operator, adjusted her headset and glanced at him. "Commander, routine check-ins are complete. No anomalies from the surface patrols."
"Good," Arthur replied, his voice steady. "Any word from Andersen on those pending transfers?"
Before Shifty could respond, a news broadcast flickered to life on one of the auxiliary screens. The announcer's voice cut through the room, polished and somber. "In remembrance of the tragic AFX Train Terrorist Attack, the annual memorial service will be held tomorrow at the Ark Central Plaza. Nearly five hundred civilians lost their lives in the assault by Heavenly Ascension radicals. This national holiday honors their sacrifice and the formation of protective measures like the Infinity Rail squad."
Arthur paused, his fingers hovering over the keys. The broadcast showed archival footage: twisted wreckage of a passenger train, emergency responders sifting through debris, and somber faces at past memorials. He leaned back, a flicker of empathy crossing his features. "Shifty, pull up details on that attack. I remember hearing about it, but not the specifics."
Shifty nodded, her fingers dancing over her console. "On it, Commander. The AFX line was a civilian transport route. Heavenly Ascension targeted it to disrupt Ark supply chains. No military personnel were aboard—they used a separate line. The attack led to the creation of Infinity Rail to safeguard future transports."
Arthur rubbed his chin, piecing it together. "And the Nikkes from Infinity Rail—they'd attend, right? Diesel, Soline, Brid."
"Likely, sir. It's a big deal for them." Shifty hesitated, then added, "The Monarks might want to show support."
Arthur stood, his tactical coat swishing as he moved. The coat concealed his pistol. He was more than a commander; he was a protector, a lover, a father figure in this patchwork family of Nikkes. Relationships with Scarlet, Nyx, Lyra, and others had deepened his resolve to challenge the Ark's dehumanizing systems. "I'll head to the Ark Express Terminal. See if I can connect with them. Keep the line open."
The AZX train ride to the terminal was uneventful, the cars rumbling through dimly lit tunnels. Arthur's mind wandered to the Outpost—his home, a beacon for Nikke autonomy. Anne's drawings, Jackal's tentative steps toward discipline. And Marian—Modernia now—the corrupted Nikke he vowed to save with the Vapaus bullet from Snow White.
Arriving at the bustling terminal, Arthur scanned the platforms. Commuters hurried by, oblivious to the undercurrents of politics and war. He spotted Soline first, her figure unmistakable in her Infinity Rail uniform, tinkering with a maintenance panel.
"Soline," Arthur called, approaching with a warm smile.
She looked up, surprise lighting her features. "Commander Cousland? What brings you here?"
"Looking for Diesel. Any idea where she is?"
Soline wiped her hands on a rag, glancing around warily. "Now's not the best time. She's in a heated discussion with Brid. They've been at it for a while."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Argument? Anything I can help with?"
She sighed, gesturing toward a side corridor. "If you insist. I'm staying out of it—got work to do. Just... be careful. They're both on edge with the memorial coming up."
Arthur nodded his thanks and followed the direction. The terminal's echoes faded as he entered a quieter maintenance area. Voices drifted from a half-open door.
"...I have to go, Brid. I've never attended before, and it's time," Diesel's voice, firm but strained.
"I get it, Diesel. But you've always overslept. And I know it's not just laziness." Brid's tone was gentle, concerned.
Arthur paused outside, not wanting to intrude but drawn by the raw emotion. He knew little of their past, but the memorial's weight was palpable.
"It's the nightmares," Diesel admitted softly. "They've been worse lately. Wandering the platform at night... it helps. But the attack affected me too. I was there, Brid. I died in it."
A heavy silence. Arthur's breath caught. Diesel—a victim? None knew they were Nikkes; to the world, they were human staff.
"We all were," Brid replied. "Soline and I too. But you've never gone to the memorial. As conductor, I feel responsible—"
"Stop that," Diesel interrupted. "It wasn't your fault. And if I don't go, you'll be hounded by officials wondering where I am. I want to ease that burden. For you, for Soline."
"Fine," Brid conceded. "But don't push yourself. Wake up on time, alright?"
The door opened, and Brid emerged, nearly colliding with Arthur. She blinked in surprise. "Commander? What are you doing here?"
"Came to see Diesel," Arthur said smoothly. "Heard about the memorial on the news. Thought the Monarks might join in support."
Brid studied him, then nodded. "She's inside. Good timing, maybe." She walked away, leaving Arthur to enter.
Diesel sat on a crate, her usual cheerful demeanor shadowed by fatigue. Her dark hair was tousled, eyes distant. "Commander Arthur? Soline send you?"
"Yeah," he said, pulling up another crate. "Overheard a bit. Sorry if I'm intruding. The memorial—sounds personal."
She managed a weak smile. "More than you know. I was on that train. Died with the others. Revived as a Nikke, but the memories... they haunt me. Overslept every year before. But this time, I'm going."
Arthur leaned forward, his voice gentle. "You don't have to face it alone. Let me come with you. The Infinity Rail formed because of this—honoring that means something to me too."
Diesel's eyes widened, then softened. "You'd do that? Even with your duties at the Outpost?"
"Especially because of them," Arthur replied. "We've all lost people to this war. Raptures, terrorists—it's the same fight. Besides, the Monarks stand with you."
She nodded slowly, a spark returning to her gaze. "Alright. Thank you, Commander. It means a lot."
As they talked, Arthur felt the pull of deeper connections. His harem of lovers—Scarlet with her fierce loyalty, Nyx's unyielding strength, Lyra's quiet vulnerability—had taught him the power of empathy in a world that commodified Nikkes. Offering support to Diesel felt like an extension of that.