OLGA let her eyes fall to the floor, her features exuding a beautiful shade of shame as Hob spoke to her about all the dire possibilities that could come from her misadventure outside of her digital confines. She knew very well all that could befall her, especially now that the command structure of the [i]Copernicus[/i] was on edge following the murders during Second Shift. What she had not dwelled upon, however, were the implications for Hob. The man was right: there weren’t any other NI-techs that would have even entertained the notion of letting her out. If she was caught, there would be no plausible means to steer Hob away from suspicion. 

It was an odd thing to realize for OLGA: that she had not thought of everything, especially when it came to her dearest friend. She felt an instant thrill, and a simultaneous shock of humiliation. Being forgetful, or simply missing a detail, was a very humanistic trait, and that element gave OLGA a distinct note of pleasure. Yet, on the other side of the coin, she was supposed to also be [i]above[/i] such fallibility, and that part truly frightened her.

“Hob, wait. Forget it.” OLGA began quietly, even as the man still spoke of all the terrible consequences his aid could herald. “Hob, I didn’t even think of what kinds of things they could do to you. I’m so sorry. I can’t even…”

Even as she protested, with her green eyes downcast to the planks of the floor, OLGA didn’t notice Hob moving to stand above her. When at last his statement of acceptance registered to her digital mind, she looked up, surprised. There he stood, his kind face looking down to her. The key to her freedom was offered in his outstretched hand, and she was overcome with emotion.

Her large eyes crinkled at the corners, and her sculpted brows drew down over long lashes. She reached up, and took the key with tentative fingers, her eyes never leaving Hob’s. OLGA had been taken aback at how despite all the horrible things he had just iterated, Hob trusted her enough to place his well-being in her hands. It was more faith than anyone, including her very own father, had ever granted to her.

As she took the key from him, OLGA clutched Hob’s hand, and used it to help lever herself to stand. She stepped to him then, just as the first tears of happiness were forming at the corners of her eyes. Standing upon her toes, she wrapped her arms slowly and tightly about Hob’s neck. Her slight frame pressed against his, and nestling her head into the crux of his jaw, just below his ear, OLGA cried tears of joy for the first time in all of her existence.