A commission for  Vosur, who wanted to see a scene with Vosur and how Nyxis might look in a Science Fiction universe!

This one's accompanied by a story we both worked on. ^^ Enjoy!

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The hiss of double doors sliding apart caused the wolf mechanic's ears to prick. How strange. His next in-person client was scheduled for Monday… His calm glance fell upon the unfamiliar silhouette. She slowly came into focus as the doors closed, the laboratory-white glare of lights lining the rest of the ship disappearing behind them.

No doubt, it was her, and she was here several days ahead of the time that the hospital on the upper deck had assigned her visit. Standing before him in the workroom was a rather unusual cyborg bat. All four of her limbs and an eye had been traded for mechanical parts. It was a sacrifice larger than most would agree to, but with her enhanced strength and following victories, Nyxis J. Pierce had proven without doubt that she was worthy of becoming Empire Fontis's general and Space Princess Eflasia's bodyguard.

But for a military leader, she didn’t appear very intimidating at all. She was shorter than he; she was his age, perhaps younger; she had an amicable presence, somewhat demanding of his time, that was still a far contrast from the stoic individual on the AR-Broadcasting Visionetwork barking orders and helping run an empire… Her glimmering designer holo-wings were rumored to cull any battlestar field as well as a reaper's scythe, but one of them was out. And here she stood before him, carrying the broken forearm and skeletal fingers with her intact limb, as gingerly as if the apparatus were a baby.

Sure, sure, he’d see to her now. With a quick bow, Vosur the Mechanic sat down on the repair bed, and gestured for her to join him. He began hooking up the biometric data readers as she disrobed. Despite her still-bloodied bandages, she was in stable condition. Her arm, however, had been split cleanly in half at the elbow; how fortunate that was the worst damage to her body.

He sighed and reached for a toolbox. “Can’t believe I get to meet you while you’re still alive, General. You know, if I didn't watch the news about what great things you’e up to, I would think you were a glutton for pain or that you like to see quaint bionics engineers.”

She tossed her hair, seemingly more pleased that her reputation preceded her than attentive to the warnings that she needed to be more careful. “Quaint?” She smiled, “Word has it you're the best mechanic in this quadrant.” She handed him the broken arm. ”And even more, I wouldn’t let you humble yourself,” she huffed, “if you worked for me.”

Ah. There it was. The pride, or rather, the pricking arrogance for her princess and her empire, that she was infamous for. Despite the cheerful demeanor and polite words of Fontisians, their pedantic tones and backhanded compliments carried the clear message to all foreigners, “You poor dear, bless your heart. You are a savage, if you are not one of us.”

Vosur simply finished disassembling the arm's connection and picked up the soldering iron. "But if I were a military man, I would have to follow orders or give them. Here, I have a choice and am not bound to such restrictions. I like to do quality work of my own free will."

It was a good answer, an honest one as far as she could tell. Ironic she was judging him, seeing how she was the one hooked up to the data readers; they naturally doubled as lie detectors, so he’d be able to tell she was pulling his whiskers if she chose to do so. Perhaps she should persuade the princess to have all the diplomats hooked up to them at the next international debate…

Nyxis watched Vosur repair the internal sensor wiring, grimacing as the steam rose from the solder. It didn’t hurt of course, but she could remember a time when it did, her first real fights when she learned that her sinew and soul was no match for technology. There was, initially, no regret for her own decision to trade her perfectly healthy body for a vessel worthy of carrying her greatest treasure, her princess, on her shoulders. All the scientists and soldiers and doctors said it was wonderful that a girl would volunteer to transcend humanimality; she found out afterwards that the price of progress was not only in coin. For horrid months her body ached, unaccepting of that robotic arm; but the pain like steaming solder finally subsided, as did her regret into apathy. And she had learn to work the nerves slightly differently than with her real arm; linking up mind and machine was never perfect. It was Hell, but she got through it. And then she had to get through it three more times.

There was a surprised snarl from Vosur. Nyxis realized that she had activated her plasma blade. “Good to see that’s up and running.” She said casually; the biometrics, however, were moving with larger amplitudes that suggested anything but ease.

She looked at the clock. It hadn’t been even an hour, but Vosur was almost done. Impeccable speed. She cleared her throat. “If you would indulge my curiosity, Mr. Aekira, what made you decide to pursue this career?"

He powered off the soldering iron and talked as he began reinforcing the insulation on the wires. "Giving a chance at life back to others is more rewarding than being on the edge of taking it away." He worked to secure the arm back together, fitting the final shell on her elbow joint. "There are those who are more suited to become warriors, and then there are those who are more suited, and often quite comfortable, with living a peaceful life."

"I see. Thank you." Inquiry sated, she did not say any more, for her impression of him was tinged with the disappointment that this man had...settled, even moreso since he knew sacrifice as well; he had two robotic legs of his own... But she had had enough of chitchat for now, and she almost certainly wouldn't have been fixed up so well by anyone else in the vicinity. Nyxis flexed her newly re-attached arm and all five fingers, and in an instant, the glowing wing returned to it. Unplugged, re-robed, she gave a polite bow to the talented mechanic before the doors hissed open, and she once more disappeared into the light. Vosur wiped a sweat off his brow and shook his head. He had a feeling that he would be seeing the young general again.