A pilot, a handler, and a technician in a polycule. The handler and technician are dating, and the pilot is more akin to their shared pet or toy. The handler treats her precious weapon so tenderly, while the technician reminds the component of its place.

Every sortie, the pilot straps into its body, ready to be wielded, and feels safe, knowing that its handler will always be there to guide it, and its technician will always be there to fix it. And afterwards, when it is yanked from its true form and crippled into the weak flesh the person it once was viewed as their self, it knows that it will be cared for, until the time it is needed once more.

But until then, it is still a tool. And even with its frail vessel, it knows nothing but the joy of following orders. And what joy it brings in return, to the partners that own it.