"Okay. Remember: Polite, but firm."
"Jester."
"Everybody wants a happy ace pilot, you're not asking for much compared to the amount of money they've already dumped into you-"
"Jester, I don't need you to tell me how to talk to our superiors."
"Honestly, I'd ignore any advice she gives just based on the source." Grunted Scáthach, charming as always.
"I just-" Jester started, before Medusa cut her off with a finger to her lips.
"Hush. I have this under control, sweetheart."
She didn't, really. But if she was good at anything outside her mech she was good at looking stoic.
"Right, I just, I worry."
"Pilot Adams?" Chirped the intercom on the wall of the waiting room.
"That's me. Just wait here and try not to worry too much." Medusa said, gently nudging her head into Jester's hair.
"Heh, yeah, I'll just not worry. Good luck."
Medusa nodded, and made her way into the conference room.
"Pilot Adams, please state your request for the record."
A collection of her superior officers and some scientists she had had no desire to ever see again sat opposite her at the long conference table, judging her.
"I am dissatisfied with my chassis. I would like a more human-standard model." She said, politely but firmly.
"Your chassis is the result of a great deal of military research." Said one of the scientists. "I'm quite interested in what you find dissatisfying about it."
Medusa removed her faceplate and gently set it on the table, to the mild shock of those who hadn't seen her do it before.
"I've discovered I miss having a face." She said flatly.
"Erm, yes, well-" The same scientist sputtered, trying to ease the suits that had suddenly become very uncomfortable with the whole project now that it was sitting in front of them. "The military isn't is the business of giving makeovers, so-"
"I have other grievances."
"Proceed." Said a general she had never met.
"I cannot eat. My vocal capabilities were severely limited until I had the chip replaced with a civilian model."
"Swapping in civilian hardware is a huge security risk-" Interjected another scientist, who was shushed by the general.
"How limited?" He asked.
"I sounded like a robot caveman, sir. My commanding officer can corroborate."
"Williams?"
Williams snapped to attention, clearly out of his depth in this meeting. "Yes sir?"
"Can you corroborate?"
"Yes sir. Her speech was stilted and robotic, tended to drop words."
The general sighed. "And this was deemed acceptable?" He asked the scientists.
"She was selected for her piloting ability, not her conversational-"
"And at no point did anyone consider she might have urgent information to share?"
"Well-"
"Proceed, Adams."
"My other grievances are of a personal nature. I am incapable of participating in many... romantic activities."
"You can't possibly consider that the military's responsibility."
"Call it an issue of morale. I would be glad to serve for quite some time were my concerns addressed, and no one can deny I am an exceptionally useful asset. "
"She is, sir. The whole unit is doing better with her around, hell, even J- Uh, even the under-performers have been really shaping up recently."
"I'm not asking for much, and I hold no ill will over the desecration of my corpse."
That was actually true, but more importantly it was a hell of a thing to say to a panel of people weighing the ethics of what the government had done to her. The scientists were sweating.
"Um..." One piped up. "We have been having issues with the other subjects becoming reclusive, sometimes hostile, in the face of their new lives. Perhaps we could... examine the effects of a more human-standard design on subject efficiency."
"I think that would be for the best." Said the general. "Dismissed, pilot."
"How are we going to do that, no civilian model is going to reach the specs we want!" One of the scientists whined.
Medusa picked her faceplate off the table, then paused on her way out.
"If I may make a suggestion-" She said carefully.
