"I!"

The philosopher probably doesn't mean her words to bite like knives, like angry wasps. Doesn't mean them as attacks that arrow past all her defenses and sink deeper than any spear, lance into her like tongues of flame.

Why does she want to defend her friends? What else [i]could[/i] she want?

What else is she useful for? To be the impenetrable barrier, the invincible wall is the very reason for her creation! It's what she was trained for, beaten for, broken to mold her into! 

A defender--no, a [i]defense[/i]--is what she [i]is![/i] It's all she knows, all she's good at, all she's good [i]for![/i]

"I!"

But... The brass tongue feels hot in her mouth. And that's new. That wasn't part of the design. The Pallas doesn't need taste to root out traitors, to smash the enemy, to lead the charge and be the perfect soldier. 

And what of the others, hmm? Dolce looks so dashing in his new captain's hat, doesn't he? But he was raised a chef, hmm? Ramses wasn't born with his tentacles, but look how hard he's worked to make them a part of himself? None of the Coherent are satisfied with the forms they were assigned at birth, are they? They move and grow and change themselves to better match that vision.

What's her vision?

"I."

The hut in the forest by the river. Domesticity. Family. Good food, good friends. A place to cherish. Safety. A place to nourish and be nourished.

"I don't know," she admits. "And if I had a choice in it, then I would not wish to fight. Do not want conflict. Want to find a place that will never face those threats, where I can be at peace.

"But... If not me, then who? We journey to Aphrodite's Rift and beyond. We face thugs and soldiers and brigands. If I do not protect them, who can? Who could I trust to step into that role? Who should I assign that burden?"