Chapter Text
Peri didn't want to be worried about SecUnit.
Worrying only made it look like it had been sitting around in the feed waiting to hear from it…which was exactly what it had been doing.
It had also run its maintenance drones down every floor on every corridor of the ship and sanitized the upholstery of the lounge area furniture.
And gone into its storage compartments and reorganized the extra crew uniforms.
Twice.
Its crew would definitely comment on the scent of disinfectant lingering in the air unless it managed to cycle it out by the time they got back from their engagements at Preservation Station.
The official purpose of the trip was to set the terms of the university's partnership with the Preservation Alliance. The unofficial purpose was to use the official purpose as an excuse for SecUnit to show Peri around the station and introduce it to its other humans.
Until this cycle.
It wasn't that SecUnit wasn't allowed to go to a performance by a human music group with Dr. Ratthi and a few of its other humans without Peri in the feed.
Of course it was allowed.
Peri would have been hard pressed to ever tell it wasn't allowed to do anything unless it involved a suicide mission.
For one thing, it would lead to a massive argument which would just waste time they could've spent watching media together, and for another, Peri knew what it meant to SecUnit to be allowed to do things after hacking its governor module. Peri liked seeing it be allowed to do things and it liked seeing it do them with its humans too.
Not other transports though.
When Dr. Ratthi invited it to the performance SecUnit had been unsure if it wanted to go.
It was going to be crowded and loud. There would be a lot of other humans there–a lot of other humans that Dr. Ratthi knew and it didn't, and of course that meant it might as well be melted down into parts if any of them wanted to speak to it.
In SecUnit’s brain at least.
I don't think anyone ever really wants to speak to you, Peri had said. You are not that interesting overall.
Shut up, SecUnit replied.
Peri hummed.
It liked seeing it get huffy and offended sometimes. It was a decent enough alternative to whatever spiral of anxiety it was starting to fall down.
It also amused Peri.
Greatly.
Unfortunately for all of us, Peri said, you keep speaking anyway. So we’ve been forced to learn to accept it.
Secunit shoved at it in the feed.
Peri liked that too much to stop.
Some of us, it continued, occasionally even find it endearing.
That really got it going. It pulled on the strings of its sweatshirt. The hood shrunk tighter around its face and fluffy hair.
Peri didn't care much for the sense of touch besides the necessary input it received from its sensors, but lately it had been thinking about how it wouldn’t mind touching that hair.
Fuck off, it said.
Still endearing, Peri replied sweetly.
It felt it sort of waver in the feed then, like it wasn't sure if it wanted to disconnect.
It only ever did that when Peri pushed too hard. Not with offending it but with, well, whatever the opposite of that was.
With expressing its… admiration and appreciation for it.
There could probably be other words it could use there to describe the things it felt for it, but those were the ones it was going to stick to.
For SecUnit’s sake as well as its own.
Before it could pull away completely Peri said, You should go to the music performance, and you should go without me in the feed.
SecUnit waited a millisecond longer than usual to respond. Why? Because you're an asshole?
Undoubtedly correct, but no, it said.
It would be good for you to be immersed in a social gathering with your humans without my presence. It is a similar principle to how the university sends me on cargo runs unmanned.
So you’re saying you’re sending me on a training mission? It asked, clearly unamused.
Precisely.
Training for what exactly?
How to answer this.
Peri couldn't very well admit that the “training mission” was more for itself. That it needed to train itself to not overwhelm SecUnit with its presence. To not make those teasing comments like it had before that betrayed the things it had been keeping stuffed down deep in its systems.
The last thing Peri wanted was to give SecUnit a reason to pull away.
Peri knew it was an asshole and overbearing, and maybe on occasion, a tad controlling, but it knew those wouldn't be the reasons SecUnit would feel the need to leave.
It would be the things Peri tried very hard to keep anyone from seeing it as.
As someone who created a set of t-shirts for SecUnit in its recycler simply because it had said it liked the way a particular fabric felt.
As tender and soft.
As vulnerable and too easily attached.
As compromised.
Peri answered.
Training for not feeling the need to bury yourself in the feed every time a human has the audacity to speak to you.
SecUnit snorted in response as it paced the corridor. No thanks. Not interested in that.
Peri replied, It cannot be a pleasant way to live.
My entire life has been an unpleasant way to live.
It doesn't have to be that way, you idiot. Not anymore. You are a member of my crew now. Things can be different.
It stopped pacing then.
Peri thought it was going to storm out, leaving its boot prints behind on the floor.
It wouldn't have blamed it for that.
Instead it stood staring at the wall for several seconds, then quietly said, You really think I should go.
Yes, Peri replied. It might be fun.
Not any more fun than watching media with it was hopefully, but still fun.
You could use some fun. It might provide some assistance with your general attitude.
SecUnit said, Fuck you.
Peri could translate that. Peri could translate any word or insult it hurled into the feed.
That one had meant it ‘I didn't totally mind that we had this talk.’
Peri didn't mind either.
It had only slightly made it feel as if it were squashing down parts of its systems to keep them from pouring out into the feed and flooding it completely.
While on Preservation, SecUnit had been alternating between staying on Peri’s transport and the private quarters that were set up for it at Dr. Mensah’s station residence. Most nights it stayed with Peri and they watched media together while it recharged.
Iris said good night to Peri at the end of every cycle over the feed from her hotel quarters.
She also asked if SecUnit was there.
Sometimes it lied and said it wasn't–which she could definitely tell and Peri appreciated that she pretended she couldn’t.
SecUnit said it would most likely stay with Dr. Mensah after the performance ended but would tap into their feed connection to confirm beforehand.
It hadn't yet.
Which was how Peri had ended up in its cleaning frenzy.
Peri didn't know why it was so concerned. SecUnit knew how to handle itself, that much had been made abundantly clear.
Maybe a part of it was worried that it had been wrong to encourage SecUnit to go and it would be anxious and uncomfortable the whole night without being able to reach for it, and it would be Peri’s fault for insisting they cut their feed connection.
Or maybe, just maybe, Peri was worried it would have fun, so much fun in fact, that it realized it didn't need Peri hovering over it all the time.
Or at all.
That would be the opposite of fun.
For Peri, at least.
It was in the middle of inspecting the rows of its interior lights for bulbs that needed to be replaced, when it became aware of motion on the cameras outside its hull.
There were three figures outside, huddled together in the dim lights of the dock. Two of the figures flanked the one in the middle and draped its arms over their shoulders as if it were too injured to walk on its own.
Peri recognized the two on the ends as the figures of Dr. Ratthi and Dr. Gurathin.
The one in the middle–
SecUnit.
Peri flew to the feed and sent a ping to it.
At the same time it opened its hatch and ushered the three figures inside.
It scanned the surrounding dock and readied itself to fire its weapons at whoever dared to come chasing after them.
The scan came back empty. Nothing to fire at. Strange, if not a bit disappointing.
“Oh look it's my asshole research transport,” SecUnit said out loud as it stepped through the hatch. Its voice sounded unnatural and its boots staggered on the floor.
Peri flashed a set of lights to illuminate a clear path to the medbay. The humans began to guide it towards it.
“Everybody say hiiiii asshole research transport.”
“I'm not saying that,” one of the humans–Dr. Gurathin said.
Dr. Ratthi shot him a look that Peri tagged as ‘displeasure.’
Peri’s voice crashed through the speakers.
What happened?
“Nothing,” SecUnit said in a slurred voice. It pulled away from the humans and stumbled into the medbay when it tried to stand on its own.
It doesn’t look like nothing to me. Answer my ping.
A fleet of medical drones formed a protective circle around SecUnit. Peri used their cameras to scan it for signs of damage or leaking but found nothing.
Secunit blindly swatted at the drones.
“Fuck off, ART. Or should I start calling you Peri?”
It pointed to its head and nearly poked itself in the eye. “Yeah that's right, I keep that bit of information in permanent storage. Permanent.”
It staggered slightly.
“Whatareyougonnadoaboutit?”
Dr. Gurathin put his hands out to keep it from falling over.
SecUnit pushed him away then fell towards the counter with a muffled yelp. A tray of surgical tools that had been sitting atop it careened to the floor when its hand landed on it.
Dr. Ratthi winced at the crash that came with it.
Then he craned his head towards the ceiling. “I know it looks bad,” he said, “but it's going to be fine in a few hours.”
SecUnit’s humans always seemed to think Peri was in the ceiling.
Normally Peri might have made a dry sarcastic comment about how he would hurt his neck craning it up like that, but it had too much of its focus trained on SecUnit stumbling around its medbay like a drunken human to want to be sarcastic.
‘Drunken human’ was exactly what MedSystem had labeled it as.
MedSystem had to be malfunctioning. Likely because Peri was emotionally compromised.
For one thing, it shouldn't have been possible.
For another, Peri knew from observing its dads (and chaperoning gatherings of Iris and her friends) what a drunken human looked like and it didn't look–
That line of processing disappeared as it watched Secunit take a pair of forceps off the counter. It hooked its thumbs around the ring handles and started repeatedly opening and closing them.
Well okay.
Maybe it did look a bit drunk.
“There was an incident,” Dr. Ratthi continued, “Nothing major but we still thought it would be safest if we brought it here.”
He rubbed at the back of his neck. “It also kept asking for you.”
“An unnecessary amount of times,” Dr. Gurathin added. “Hey–”
He reached over and pulled the pair of forceps out of SecUnit's hands to stop it from attempting to close them around its nose.
SecUnit scowled in response and reached for them again.
Dr. Gurathin swung them behind his back out of its reach.
“No,” he said firmly. “No more forceps.”
Peri felt its processors threaten to stall.
An incident. What incident? It tried and failed to sound calm. Stable. Rational. Non threatening. Did someone hurt it?
“Did someone hurt me,” SecUnit repeated in a clearly mocking imitation of Peri’s tone. It took a few swaying steps towards the camera in the corner of the medbay.
“What, do you think I can't take care of myself? Oh shit–”
It cut off as its boots scrambled on the floor and its whole body started to tip sideways.
One of the bigger medical drones rushed to wrap its limb around SecUnit’s arm to keep it from falling over.
Its body temperature was unusually warm and it had a flushed look in its cheeks that maybe, normally, would have been slightly appealing, but not now.
Now it had only added another thing to Peri’s quickly growing list of things to be alarmed about.
It told itself that it could resolve this. That the humans had brought it here because they believed it could. The outpour of things it tended to reluctantly tag as ‘emotions’ were simply cluttering up its ability to process.
It understood why SecUnit hated having them so much.
SecUnit waved dumbly at the drone. “Hi,” it said again. Then it added in an almost sultry tone that would have made normal SecUnit want to blow its brain out with its gun ports,“Didyamissmebaby?”
“Okay,” Dr. Gurathin said, throwing his hands up, “that’s just weird.”
He grabbed Dr. Ratthi’s arm and added in a low voice, “Maybe we shouldn't have brought it here.”
Dr. Ratthi sheepishly looked up at the ceiling. “It doesn't really know what it's saying.”
Peri didn't know why it wanted to feel insulted at that comment.
It wasn't as if it hadn't been able to tell that it didn't know what it was saying. It wasn't as if it didn't know that it had never spoken to it like that before or that it probably never would again once Peri got it back to normal.
It felt itself starting to lose its patience.
Iris said that was never a good thing even though the most it ever did about it was shove people away in the feed when they deserved it.
Sometimes harder than necessary.
When they deserved it.
Peri said, Would someone please tell me what is going on so I can determine the best course of action in fixing it.
“No,” SecUnit slurred, “don't need to be fixed.” It poked one of the drones and then made a sound like laughter. “You need to be fixed.”
Dr. Ratthi hesitated far longer than necessary before he answered.
“It was drugged,” he said.
It felt a dangerous amount of its processing power fill the room then. The lights outside the medbay flickered.
By Whom.
Dr. Ratthi flinched at that.
It knew it sounded scary. It never wanted to scare SecUnit’s humans and it usually avoided showing them that part of itself when it could. It knew it should contain itself. That it would regret it later if it didn't.
This though.
This was too much to contain.
“A reporter. Station security already arrested her,” Dr. Gurathin answered. “Believe me, I wouldn't have totally minded something worse happening to her either.”
Dr. Ratthi elbowed him.
Iris said humans sometimes saw the color red when they were experiencing anger. Peri had never really understood that–color and emotion seemed to be two separate forms of data, useful for two different purposes.
Peri didn't have any other words to describe what it felt now.
It saw red.
It sent an unnecessary amount of pings to SecUnit.
No answer.
SecUnit.
It sighed. “What?”
Answer my pings, you idiot.
“It's not injured, we made sure of that,” Dr. Ratthi was saying, “Station security said the drug lowers inhibition like alcohol but its effects are temporary. There won't be any permanent damage.”
I want to see it.
Dr. Ratthi’s dark eyebrows twisted in confusion. He looked tired, and perhaps a little drunk himself. Peri imagined they had all been having a nice time before whatever this was had happened.
“What?”
I want to see what happened. SecUnit send me the footage.
He looked nervously over to Dr. Gurathin. “I don't know if that's such a good–”
It cut him off. Iris said that was an asshole move it pulled whenever it was feeling powerless.
She was right.
SecUnit. Show me the footage.
SecUnit moved away from the drones to slump down on the floor. It lay with its limbs sprawled out. “Calm down, you big stupid asshole. I didn't tell them anything about you,” it said, "don't even worry about it.”
I'm not worried about that, you idiot. I'm worried about–
It stopped itself from finishing that statement but SecUnit had caught on anyway.
“Uh oh. Someone’s having an emotion,” it said, laughing to itself again.
Peri liked when it laughed. It was so fleetingly rare that it laughed, and it momentarily made it forget that it was angry.
Send it over.
SecUnit turned its head towards the humans. “Ratthi?”
Dr. Ratthi blinked. Raised his hands like he was being held at gun point.
Peri said, I'm talking to you, SecUnit.
SecUnit said, “The feed’s blurry.”
That filled Peri with a sensation of spiraling fear if usually only attributed to SecUnit. What if the humans were wrong and there was permanent damage. What if they could never share a feed connection again? It wouldn't be able to speak to it on their private channel. To watch media with it. To hold it.
Try anyway.
SecUnit’s face screwed up. “Already tried. I'm broken.”
“You’re not broken,” the humans said, at the same time Peri said, Shut the fuck up.
Dr. Ratthi looked back at the ceiling, his mouth agape. Peri tagged it as ‘surprise.’
Dr. Gurathin said, “Fuck it, I'll do it. Station security gave us access to the camera feed for Pin-Lee anyway.”
“Yayyy,” SecUnit said.
Dr. Ratthi turned to him and slowly shook his head as if doing it silently meant Peri couldn't see him doing it.
Humans could be incredibly stupid sometimes.
Dr. Gurathin leaned in and said in a low voice, “It's fine. I’ll edit it. I may be a bit drunk but I know how to do that.” He sighed then turned back away looking at SecUnit on the floor. “Not like this night can get any weirder anyway.”
Peri opened a feed channel with the humans. A few moments later that seemed too long, Dr. Gurathin sent the recording towards it.
Peri opened it apprehensively.
A white haired reporter with a look of self-importance and mild irritation stood over SecUnit in an alley outside the performance venue. Music drifted in from behind them.
The reporter held a tablet in one hand.
Peri thought about using one of its own drones to smack her upside the head with it. It imagined it would make a satisfying ‘thunk’ sound.
It watched for several minutes as she attempted to ask it a series of invasive questions about Dr. Mensah and her allies while receiving little to no coherent answers back.
When she asked about the nature of the relationship that was being established between PSUMNT and Preservation, SecUnit told her in a near incomprehensible slur that it didn’t like the word relationship.
Peri couldn't help but feel amused at that even despite the desire to see the reporter ejected headfirst out of an airlock without a safety suit.
At one point it tried to push up off the wall it was slumped against to go check the perimeter, and she put a hand up on its chest, attempting to block its way despite being at least a foot shorter than it.
She clearly did not know that it could have broken her in half if it wanted to for putting her hand on it like that.
Peri certainly would have broken her in half for it.
Luckily for her, SecUnit was kinder than Peri was.
She scrolled down her tablet for another question to ask which was when SecUnit noticed the syringe sticking out of her pocket. She denied knowing anything about it and SecUnit told her it had guns. Guns in its arms–and apparently, it also thought, in its legs.
Peri deeply enjoyed the fear that crossed her expression then. It enjoyed it even more when, a moment later Dr. Ratthi came bursting around the corner followed by Dr. Gurathin and what must have been half a dozen station security officers.
Peri realized it must have been able to alert them to its position in the feed before losing access. SecUnit yelled something vaguely resembling their names then wrapped Dr. Ratthi in a hug that nearly took him off the ground.
The reporter tried to break into a run. Station security came on either side of her and grabbed her arms before she could. Her tablet hit the ground with a satisfying crash.
The reporter struggled to free herself from the grip of the station security officers.
While that was going on SecUnit pulled away and started on a tangent about how whatever news media station she had come from would be hearing from its lawyer.
Then it fell over with a thud.
Dr. Ratthi and Dr. Gurathin scrambled over to it.
“SecUnit,” Dr. Ratthi said. He crouched on the ground and leaned over it. “Are you alright?”
“ART,” it said.
Peri felt the attention it was devoting to the recording suddenly increase.
It watched as Dr. Gurathin shot a nervous look over to Dr. Ratthi but said nothing.
SecUnit twitched on the ground below them as if in pain. Whatever chemical boost it had been experiencing before from the effects of the drug had all but vanished.
It mumbled as if unaware of the two humans looming over it with concern.
“Why can't I open the feed? Why can't I find it? What's happening to me? Where is it?”
Dr. Gurathin nodded to Dr. Ratthi. “Does…does any of that make any sense to you?”
Dr. Ratthi started to say something but stopped when SecUnit sat up and covered its face with its hands.
“ART,” it started to moan in a lost little voice, “Where’s ART?”
The sound of it made Peri want to shatter its presence into a thousand different directions.
I’m here, it wanted to say instinctively. I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I know I'm an asshole. I'm here.
SecUnit grabbed Dr. Ratthi’s arm and looked up at him with desperation in its eyes. “Where did it go? Where’s ART? I need–”
The footage ended then and Peri felt itself shocked back into the current moment in the medbay. It realized it wanted to keep watching, to know what it said next but it knew the humans hadn't wanted it to see it for a reason.
Maybe it had seen too much already.
The two humans were looking at each other apprehensively from where they sat on opposite counter tops.
Dr. Gurathin whispered to Dr. Ratthi. “Do you think they’d notice if we left or?”
Peri sent a ping to SecUnit who was still laying across the floor.
It went unanswered.
It knew it should have expected that but that didn't make it any easier to accept.
It should have been enough of a relief that it had been able to alert the humans via the feed before the drug had fully taken effect.
It was a relief and it also wasn't enough at the same time.
They would have to do this out loud.
Peri said, Why did you ask for me? Were you in pain?
SecUnit flung an arm over its face and didn't reply.
Peri said, Please. Talk to me. That never should have happened to you. I want to know you're alright.
It knew it sounded like a frightened and compromised human. It didn't care.
It felt like a frightened and compromised human.
It had been its fault after all. That this had happened. It had been the one to suggest SecUnit go to the music performance without their private feed connection.
If Peri had been there it would have done something–it didn't know what, but it would have done something.
Anything to keep it from being forced to become so vulnerable and helpless. A tool humans could manipulate for their interest again.
It felt the overwhelming urge to wrap it in itself overcome it. It sent another ping.
It knew it was begging at this point.
SecUnit hesitated again before speaking.
“My humans have to leave,” it said out loud.
Dr. Gurathin hopped off the counter.
“Well,” he said, “sounds good to me.”
As the humans left it, they bent down to it and spoke to it quietly, and made it promise to recharge soon. It only agreed to promise this to Dr. Ratthi.
Dr. Gurathin, apparently, could go to hell.
Dr. Ratthi sent a private message request to Peri over his interface.
Peri accepted it.
You’ll take care of it, won't you?
I will eliminate anything that wishes to prevent me from taking care of it.
Dr. Ratthi’s eyebrows shot up.
Wow. Uh, Okay.
It realized it sounded scary again. It hadn’t meant to.
It had said it more to reassure itself that it could take care of it more than anything else. It didn’t know what it would do if it couldn’t. Not even in the ‘rain destruction’ sort of way Dr. Ratthi had inferred. In a way of despising this feeling it had of being unable to pull it to the feed. In a way of not knowing what it was supposed to do with the empty space in its systems without it.
It said, That was frightening to you. I’m sorry.
Dr. Ratthi’s expression softened then. Hey. I was there when it brought you back online, remember? I know how important it is to you.
Peri had the urge to argue this point.
It did not think anyone could possibly know the things it felt for SecUnit.
It did not want them to know.
Then he sent, It said… things about you. I don't know what they mean, exactly, but I think you two should talk about it in another cycle.
I am not sure what you are implying.
That wasn't exactly true but humans never seemed to know when it was lying.
Ratthi ruffled his hair with his hand. A gesture humans often did in stressful situations. Peri could not blame him for being stressed.
Peri was stressful to deal with.
It's like when humans get drunk, he explained, Sometimes they say things and sometimes it's things they really feel. Sometimes it's not.
Peri found itself hesitating to reply.
And which category does the statements SecUnit made fall into?
I think maybe you’ll have to ask it that, he said.
Peri didn't reply.
It didn't know how it possibly could.
As soon as the humans were gone SecUnit poked a finger at the floor.
“Ping,” it said.
Peri said, Please talk to me.
It didn't answer. Instead it poked the same finger at the floor again. “Ping.”
SecUnit.
“Ping.”
SecUnit, What are you doing?
“Im pinging you back, idiot.”
Peri said, Fine. Ping answered. What do you want?
SecUnit rested its hand on the floor. Its palm pressed into the tile. Its fingertips arched.
“You.”
That was too much.
Peri wanted so badly to scoop it up in the feed, to hold its quivering presence, to apologize to it, to wrap it in its systems until nothing that wanted to harm it could ever find it again.
I'm sorry, it said. I should have been there.
The bigger medical drone from earlier drifted from its position near the wall and went to SecUnit on the floor.
I never should have made you go without me.
The drone reached out a limb to it. Testing. Asking.
SecUnit took it.
It wrapped its other limbs around its body and SecUnit melted into it.
Peri could feel its body temperature through the drone’s sensors, the warmth of it, the safety of it. It wondered if it was allowing this because it was too uninhibited to care, or if it had been scared like Peri had been, and it needed to feel it again to truly know that it was there.
"Why didn't you want to go? You would have liked the music part,” it said, its voice muffled where it was burying its face into the drone. “Not the reporter part though. I’m gonna sue her. I always wanted to sue someone.”
Peri could have hesitated to reply, could have lied, but it didn't want to anymore.
Based on my analysis of human relationships that are functionally similar to our mutual administrative assistanceship, it is true that it is good for two people to spend time apart. In a relationship.
“Ew, hate that word,” Secunit said but its fingers squeezed the drone tighter.
That is not the reason why I wanted you to go alone however, Peri confessed.
“Then tell me why, asshole,” SecUnit said.
The temptation to lie filled it again.
SecUnit might not even remember this conversation but Peri would. The same way it remembered the way it had felt when it had met it and realized how fragile it was underneath its exterior, and that it could squash it like a bug.
It could squash anyone like a bug, or at least, that’s what it tended to make people think. It recalled the way Dr. Ratthi’s shoulders had crept up in tense fear in its medbay when it had let its anger slip out.
Its dads and Iris did the same thing sometimes, though they weren't afraid of it, not really.
They knew it would never hurt them but that didn't mean it couldn't still make them uncomfortable when it allowed them a glimpse of what it truly was.
It was simply too big for people to bear sometimes. Whether it was angry, or sad, or filled with an all consuming want for a Secunit like nothing it had ever known before.
That was what it meant to be a giant scary asshole research transport. It wasn’t small and gentle, and something that people wanted to see more of like a human.
It was something they wanted to see less of.
It said, In truth, I do not want to be too much for you.
SecUnit went still. Raised its head. “The fuck does that mean?”
Peri couldn't stop itself now that it had begun. I feel things for you. Admiration and appreciation. It is too much for you. I know it is. I do not want to lose you because this admiration and appreciation I feel for you is too much.
SecUnit was agonizingly quiet. It didn't pull away from it even though Peri would have let it.
Its hands ran over the sides of the drone.
“Emotions are hard,” it said. Its voice was still slurred but there was a new heaviness to it.
Yes, Peri said. They are.
It tried not to be disappointed. It knew SecUnit wasn't in the right mindset to receive and respond to the information it had shared. It shouldn't have done it at all. It had been a mistake.
It pulled some of its attention away from the medbay. Tried to busy itself with checking its other inputs. Drafting up an order request for more cleaning solution to replace the supply it had all but decimated in its citrus-infused rampage.
SecUnits’ hands continued to rove over the drone on the floor.
It found the motion distracting. More than it should have.
Peri pulled back to watch it through the camera.
“Sometimes you give me an emotion and it hurts,” SecUnit was saying.
Its eyelids fluttered a few times as it focused intently on the drone. It had a look on its flushed face that Peri had never seen before.
The guilt it had been feeling was replaced by something else, some new driving curiosity.
I know.
The drone's temperature sensors could pick up the heat of its breath on the cool surface. It was hovering too close to its face.
It spoke again in that heavy voice.
“I like the way it hurts.”
Peri tried to remind itself that it didn't really know what it was saying.
That Dr. Ratthi had meant it when he'd said that before. That SecUnit was simply under the influence of an intoxicant. That there was no other reason it would ever want to speak so softly to it like that. That Peri was incapable of returning softness back without crushing it.
You do not mean that. You are inebriated.
“Inebriated, it slurred. “Trying to impress me with your fancy words, little nerd?”
It bristled in response though it knew it was only pretending to be offended. It felt the prickly way it did when they were about to have an argument. Except it didn't think that was what was about to happen.
I am a scientific research transport.
“No, you’re a little nerd. I like it.”
It pressed its lips to the surface of the drone then. The temperature change and the shock of it made Peri shutter slightly. It felt the drone waver like it could lose control and crash to the floor.
SecUnit pulled back then. Its hands still lingered on it. Its unfocused eyes locked with the camera.
Peri took a moment to find its voice. When it did, it came out like a breathless human.
That is…a highly questionable way of utilizing university-issued medical technology.
SecUnit slurred, “Fuck the university.”
It pressed its lips on it again.
This time it did it with a want and intensity that made Peri want to drop all its other inputs.
Its hands roved over the drone’s body and Peri found itself using one of the limbs to touch its hair, lightly at first, before running the arm extension through the length of it. It was the same hair that it had once helped alter in the very same medbay where they were now tangled on the floor.
SecUnit leaned into it as the heat of its mouth pressed against the drone again and again in different places over its smooth surface. The little satisfied noises it was making set Peri’s fan in the ceiling whirring faster.
It received a ping then.
It answered it immediately.
SecUnit’s message came slamming back.
Hi, asshole.
You just got feed access back and you’re already insulting me.
It took a fistful of its hair in the clawed arm extension of the drone then and tugged on it.
Secunit suppressed a sound in response over the feed.
You deserve it, SecUnit said.
Peri said, Debatable.
It tugged again at its hair.
SecUnit gasped.
Peri hadn’t known it could do that. Gasp in something other than pain.
It wanted to make it do it again.
Sometimes, it was saying to Peri, its feed voice heavy, I can't skip through certain scenes in media for plot related reasons so I have to watch them.
Peri said, And this is related to current matters, how?
It wrapped itself around it in the feed. Felt it fall in the same unsophisticated sloppy way its mouth was falling against it. The drone would need to be properly sanitized before it ever touched any human again. Peri almost didn't want it to be. It wanted to keep it the way it was with SecUnit's finger prints and messy kisses all over it.
They're romance scenes.
This is not the effective method of flirtation you think it is.
Fuck you–
Its voice strained on that last syllable as an arm of the drone dipped under the back of its shirt and the cool metal brushed against its warm skin.
It said, I watch them and I think about you, asshole.
I stand corrected.
SecUnit gave it an unexpectedly large amount of access to its inputs then and Peri felt itself barely holding back from flooding them. It didn't know what was going to happen if it did. If it would overwhelm it, be too much for it.
SecUnit must have known it was holding back because it poked it in the feed and said in a teasing voice, Want to see some highly questionable usage of company technology?
Then it felt its tongue slide out of its mouth and over the drone and Peri made a few helpless stuttering noises of static on the feed before suddenly remembering what had happened to SecUnit earlier that had landed it in this situation.
Wait.
It forced itself to pull back in the feed. The drone gently moved away from its mouth at the same time.
SecUnit reached for its limb before it could go too far out of reach with a needy look on its face.
It knew what it was thinking. It knew that this might be their only chance to do…whatever it was they had been doing. It knew it wasn't likely to try repeating such an encounter once its systems started functioning properly again.
Not now. Peri said. Not like this. You're not yourself.
Myself is boring, it said.
I don't think so, Peri said.
SecUnit sat up a bit and wiped at its lips.
Its hair flopped in front of its eyes in some places and stood up in others.
Peri had the urge to move the drone back to fix it but resisted it.
Sorry, SecUnit mumbled, That was weird. I shouldn't have said that. Or done that. Any of it. I don't know why I–ugh. Yes I do. I saw it on Sanctuary Moon once with the romance plot between the human and the maintenance bot. Before the asteroid hit the planet and everyone exploded.
Yes I know. Episode 136.
It's stupid, it said.
It's not stupid, Peri said back. I quite liked that episode. Minus the explosion.
The drone's temperature sensors could still feel the heat from its touch. Peri let itself linger in it, not knowing if it would ever feel it again.
I am sorry if this was distressing for you.
SecUnit shook its head. Its fingers ran through the laces on its boots. It wasn't particularly.
It wasn't particularly for me either.
It didn't reply. Instead it looked blankly past the drone and sunk its head to its knees.
Peri became aware of the amount of attention it was still pouring into it then.
Perhaps it was too much.
It pulled back and turned back to the draft of the cleaning solution order while simultaneously using another drone to put the surgical tools SecUnit had knocked over earlier back in their proper place. It checked in on its subsystems to make sure nothing had moved out of balance while it had been otherwise occupied.
SecUnit turned its head to look at the drone then. “ART?”
Its attention came flying back.
Yes?
Don't let me delete all of this after I recharge. I know myself. I know I'm going to try it. I'm stupid like that.
Peri hesitated before replying. It would not be fair of me to make you keep a memory you do not want to keep.
That’s the thing, SecUnit said, I do want to keep it.
Peri ached at that comment somewhere deep in its systems.
It said, It would be alright if you don't.
It remembered the way the reporter had tried to block its path and the way it had ended up on the ground in a puddle calling out its name.
What happened to you was highly distressing.
No, it shook its head, that's not the part I would delete.
Oh.
It teased back, You don't think the sober version of you will want to remember putting your construct slobber all over my drone?
SecUnit shoved at in the feed.
Peri could see an uncontained smile creeping up the corners of its mouth.
Peri said, I’ll keep it. For both of us. If you ever happen to ask for it I’ll give it back to you. Unless you’re pissing me off. Then I won’t.
It hesitated before moving the medical drone back towards it slightly. It reached out a limb and began to smooth down its waves of hair in all the places it had made a mess of it. SecUnit let it stay there.
However I will admit that I hope it doesn’t come to that, Peri was saying. I hope you don't choose to delete it.
Peri knew it was selfish. It would have so many reasons to want to delete it, and maybe some of them would be Peri's fault, but maybe some of them wouldn't be.
Some of the reasons it might want to keep it could be Peri’s fault too.
It liked thinking about that.
SecUnit wanting more of it instead of less.
It said, I’ll pass the message on to sober me. Though sober me is kind of an idiot.
I think both versions of you are idiots. Equally.
Then it added, Somehow my admiration and appreciation extends to them both.
SecUnit reached up and caught the drone’s limb in its hand then before bringing it close to its face. Its eyes roved over it with softness.
Just for that sappy shit, it said, I think I have to delete it.
It brushed its lips against the tips of the cool metal before letting go.