"Mr. Siren." The brigadier general stepped up to the edge of the water tank, his gloved finger pressing against Siren's shattered nose bridge. The digit sank an inch into the mercenary's face with disturbing ease. A violent tremor wracked Siren's body as twin jets of crimson erupted from his nostrils.

Wiping blood off his glove with a disgusted expression, General Fick introduced himself. "Brigadier General Fick. Commanding officer of Thunderbolt Division, Federal Space Marines. Let me dispense with pleasantries - Admiral Vagari has an interest in your particular talents. A colonel's commission awaits you in the Federation."

The wheelchair screeched to a halt beside the tank as Dulu's massive head tilted toward Siren. Saliva dripped from his chin as he rasped, "I have one stipulation. Give me the red-haired woman or I kill you."

Fick chuckled, retrieving a handkerchief to blot Siren's face clean.

"Heard his terms? The redheaded lady is called Aridya, right?" Fick cradled Dulu's skull, its veins pulsing like serpents beneath greenish skin. "Sweet boy never takes what isn't offered freely. Just inform him you've surrendered the girl and suddenly you'll have a very... helpful friend."

Dulu's vacant eyes sparkled as he mumbled, "I want to sleep with her!"

Siren regarded the monstrosity coldly while Dulu stared back with disturbing innocence. "You're useless," the mercenary sneered. "You can't protect her. You have no right! I defeated you both - she should be mine! Heh heh, she always asked about you... I told her you died. She cried so hard..."

Fick crossed his arms and smirked at Siren's grimace. "Considerations? How long does this take when the Hell Angels are already being liquidated to frontline trenches?"

Siren glared at Dulu. "His conditions require deliberation."

Fick tossed the bloodstained handkerchief into the tank, watching it swirl with the violet fluid. "Your red-haired woman... family servant's descendant from six generations past? Naturally warrants careful contemplation."

The general gestured toward the metal ring binding Siren's brow. "Our treasure requires satisfaction. If Aridya pleases Dulu, she becomes his possession. Convince her to serve him loyally - it's both your and her opportunity."

Dulu mumbled agreement with a lecherous grin. "Strip her naked... haven't seen anything as beautiful..."

Siren's eyes narrowed against the searing metal ring. "Remove this thing from my head. It hurts like hell."

Fick chuckled at the restraint device gleaming on Siren's forehead. "Seventh Research Institute's latest - quite effective, isn't it?"

The mercenary opened his eyes to glare coldly at Fick. "Idiot," he spat. "What do you take me for? A nobleman doesn't think without attendants!"

Fick raised an eyebrow as Dulu suddenly yanked the ring down.

"Relax," the monstrosity slurred, "I'll stop you from doing anything... naughty."

Fick's hand hovered near his sidearm as Siren closed his eyes in silent concentration. Five minutes passed before twin silver glows materialized beside him. Two young maidens emerged - translucent gowns barely covering their curves while pale skin shimmered under the tank lights.

"Ugh," Fick swallowed hard, noting their exposed flesh but detecting no weapons or threats. His hand drifted away from his holster as he admired Siren's conjuring skills.

Dulu's eyes bulged comically at the sight of the maidens.

Siren sighed in satisfaction. "My personal sigil... even when destitute, I must have servants." He exhaled as the ring fell back into place, scattering his spiritual focus like stardust.

The maids cooed softly, their hands caressing Siren's face while Fick watched uneasily. Suddenly Siren groaned in relief. "Thank God you didn't break my..."

"Damn it," Fick muttered as the two girls continued their ministrations. He barked an order into his wrist communicator before roughly grabbing Dulu by the collar.

Siren began to chuckle darkly, instructing the maids with exaggerated commands that made Fick want to vomit. "Oh yes... there! Kiss him harder!"

The general dragged a whimpering Dulu out of the chamber as two pink-tongued girls sat cross-legged on the floor, their vacant expressions fixed on Siren's supine form.

From some distant monitoring room came muffled laughter and curses directed at the unconscious mercenary. But beneath his closed eyelids, Siren's eyes darted rapidly - a telltale sign of REM sleep.

Tiny nanobots the size of pinpricks swarmed through his damaged body, sealing torn muscles with delicate precision while knitting shattered bones into perfect replicas. Organs once beaten to pulp now pulsed with renewed vitality as the violet nutrient fluid gurgled through his system like liquid starlight.

Within half an hour, a thousand microscopic beauties emerged from Siren's pores in an ant-like procession, ferrying energy-rich molecules directly to rejuvenating cells. His body absorbed the nutrients and expelled metallic debris through sweat glands - eight alien prostheses reduced to harmless sludge within minutes.

As the nanites dissolved into silver light and reabsorbed their energy, Siren's eyes snapped open with a feral gleam that sent chills down any nearby spines.