Tell me if I seem to be getting something wrong, though. I don't know what I'm doing, besides trying.

She gives Ilek another squeeze, and then lets go with one hand.

    "She needs to stay here to help your brother sleep, but it might help you to go for a walk, sir. If you'd like."

He nods - a walk does sound like a good idea. Maybe he'll find someone to spar with. 

He squeezes her in thanks, stands, and then pauses, "...Do you mind if I bring my harp with me, when I come back." He stops, "If it's alright if I come back, that is."

Of course, Stormsinger agrees.

Ilek's question gets a little smile.

    "Of course you can, sir."

His lips quirk up a little, too. 

He nods, hovers a bit in front of her for a moment, and then leaves. 

She watches him go, and then looks back to DZ.

Are you okay, Love? Anything to say about that?

    I'm okay, ma'am, she answers, and then pauses to think. It's strange that it's not just you who thinks robots should be people.

I think most people will, here. It's good, it means you can be free later, if you want to.

    Yes ma'am, she signs, quickly enough that it's obviously just an acknowledgement.

Anything else?

    A long pause, this time; Deskyl waits patiently. I don't want them to think I'm like a human.

That will be harder, I think. Even elves seem pretty close, they don't have really alien people at all. Can you tell me more about how it matters?

    It's not good for humans to serve but it's right for me.

Deskyl smiles; it's not something she wants to hear, but it's still a breakthrough. That'll be hard, yeah. But maybe there's a way to do it, I'll think about it.

Stormsinger notes all of this, of course. 

It will be difficult to keep that in mind, he admits, Given my history. But if it is what she desires, I will do my best to respect it. 

You'd better, she sends, but there's no heat in it, and plenty of understanding. I think it'll be okay as long as she can tell you're trying.

He sends his acknowledgement, as well as affection, I will. 

Ilek knocks on the door again about an hour after he left.

He's humming, when she opens it, absently running his hand over the strings of his lap harp. He has a bruise on his cheek, and there's a little blood on the sleeve of his shirt - he left his coat in his room - but he looks much more relaxed. 

She's been working on the battery, and has parts spread out all over the open space by the window; DZ is looking up from where she's been doing paperwork at the desk. Deskyl gestures at the sitting area.

Ilek nods at both of them, a little absently, and goes to sit on the loveseat, still humming. He starts playing instead once he settles down - he'd thought of the melody while sparring and hadn't wanted to forget it before he could transfer it to harp. 

Stormsinger observes this with rueful amusement, Well, that's familiar. 

I probably shouldn't turn my hearing on until we have a better idea of how you do with pain, unfortunately.

Your hearing causes you pain? He asks, concerned. 

If I don't have a Force effect up to fix it, yeah. I've always been that way; it's not a big deal.

Understanding and affection, You needn't cause yourself pain for my sake, he tells her, I will have my own ears eventually. 

You will, she sends, the affection returned. And I'll be able to fix my own before too long - probably not before we leave but not long after, I think.

We can listen to him then, he agrees. As I very much doubt he'll be willing to leave that instrument behind. 

I wouldn't ask him to. We're trying to help.

Yes, he agrees, fond. 

She goes to tidy up some of her battery parts.

DZ, meanwhile, has stopped working to listen.

He's not playing a piece, right now. He's writing one. He plays a string of notes a few times in a row, considering it, and then falls back to start from the beginning, adding it in. He improvises, and if he decides it's not right, he goes back to try again. 

He's trying to write something... sad, but comforting. Hopeful. He keeps poking at it until he's satisfied with the first draft. He plays it all the way through. It ends on a high note. 

He looks up, and is surprised to find her watching. 

"...What do you think?" He asks. 

"It's beautiful, sir."

He smiles down at his harp.