[Rolling back again and to its feet, suppressing the flinch at the sound of the clap, the Soldier turns back to face her just as time to see the lightning coming. Fuck! It throws up the metal arm between them, which keeps said lightning from frying itself, but it does short out the arm with an evil sounding crackle. It drops like dead weight, pain hitting the nerves that join it to the Soldier's body.

There's a flash of memory, not a full malfunction this time, but enough to make it step back and obviously disengage, sword coming down at its side, while it integrates the sensation. Someone else doing that to the arm before, only with a little round disc thing. Someone with red hair. Who was that.

The Soldier moves again after something like twenty seconds of frowning at nothing, shakes its head vigorously, says,]

That's effective.

[Then it swings its arm in a full circle from its shoulder to reboot it and bring function back online.]

And I don't think I've ever felt a connection to anything.