DateTimelockJack192-CH-3Z0120998?Interior?Locale0End

"Admirable," said the immaculate man who stood, legs splayed with easy confidence, before her. He shifted slightly, exposing more of the insignia patch on his arm and ruffling the thin green rug just a bit. "Your performance is to be commended; that's why I am here, of course."

"Yes. I freely express many emotional variants of honor, modesty, and gratitude." The voice was laced with obviously sardonic undertones, and carefully measured in a way familiar to most denizens of this twenty-third century.

"That means thanks. I guess. I shan't claim to be one for formalities, so let's get to the point. Your targets were held and eliminated without deviation, the operation flowed smoothly as ever it has, and your prodigious capacity for this line of work inspired memories of your noble predecessors. In short, you ate up one hell of a record-size assignment. By the name and authority of our organization, I bestow this award upon you."

The squat porcelain construct passively absorbed the information, gleaming like the polished skeleton of some stolid elephant of old. A brief affirmative sound issued from its concealed chamber.

The Vice Admiral returned the machine's equivalent of a salute with the human original and, stooping, placed the small platinum medal on the upper part of its structure. It complements Celes well, he thought. Can't say she doesn't deserve it… we got one bad-ass bitch of an AI here.

"I perceive thoughts when they are as obtusely broadcast as that," stated Celes with a hint of artificial amusement. The Admiral was almost induced to a blush. He recovered quickly and glossed over the subject.

"Let it be known that through your exemplary service to this unit, you are acknowledged as a hero and a role model to us all. Luck smile on you in future ventures. That is all." He crisply clicked his shining black heels and stepped out. The lights dimmed.

Standing solo in the well-furnished room, V. Celes the Heavy idled reflectively. The effete pumps and cranks ensconced in her thick tank whirred quietly. Small, watery sounds of maintenance periodically broke the silence.

All of a sudden, with a mechanical click and sigh of discontent, she flipped the medal from the top of her body to the main section. At the same time--and with additional difficulty--she opened her expensive lid and allowed the burnished piece of metal to sink swiftly to the bottom of her bowl. A chrome handle depressed, sending the award to join her vaunted last assignment.

The toilet was happy and alone again.