[color=6ecff6]"There were no major issues with any of the suits,"[/color] she corrected, almost reflexively. [color=6ecff6]"Insofar as one can say there were no major issues with something following such a primitive design. Utterly lacking neurolink, absent sensory sync, and not even the most rudimentary self-repair, not to mention the lack of redundancy inherent to using only noble metals for the nervous system."[/color] 

Feanulde was more comfortable around the one known as HB, and she had neither the will nor the capacity to hide it. She feared them as much as she did the others, of course - more if one considered the direct physical danger posed. The Devil, however, was something she knew. A tool, a weapon, a cog free of the machine yet still lined with teeth and largely inert until engaged. She understood who and what HB was, in a way that she doubted even Jacobin did. No, this one wouldn't hurt her under their own volition, not unless she was judged an imminent threat to the group, or it turned out that the doctor's methods failed on exposure to the right stimulus.

[color=6ecff6]"I trust that you are functioning properly as well."[/color] Another statement. [color=6ecff6]"Unless you've come to me for additional checks."[/color] She would have been better at maintaining the suite of augmentations HB possessed before changing sides, of course, but she had little doubt in her ability to maintain the less practical, less advanced replacements the Coalition had provided the trooper.