"I don't know if I'd call it better," Soldat says, voice calm. Carefully so. Not because of the subject matter, just because they have a large human-shaped person fucking around in the arm. "It doesn't feel the same way as my other arm. More precise, but less sensation. It is bulletproof but it's. Easily shorted out. And it's very heavy." They feel almost bad, though, talking like that, so they add, "But it's a good arm. It's protected me and others. It does what I ask it to. It's mine."

(Careful, treatin' it like a thing that might have feelings. That's how you wind up with me. Shut up, Sarge.) Sarge laughs somewhere in the back of his mind.